They rode deeper into the heart of Zexultan until they had passed the poorer districts, and eventually the children stayed behind once they'd crossed into what appeared to be a middle-class area. The buildings here were cleaner and some of them were painted bright hues of olive, orange and azure. Many of the canopies had finer cloth woven with eye-catching stripes and checkered diamonds. There were fewer sightings of the brown spiky lizards here and fewer shadows as the district was well lit with lamps hanging in front of the medium-sized homes.
Before long they entered a business square with vendors' carts and several smith forges, tailor shops, potters, and brothels. Back in the west corner, Kazimir spotted a bustling two-story tavern, which usually meant they offered boarding.
"This looks good," said Kazimir. "Let's head over there. I bet they have rooms available. I don't imagine they get many travelers through the desert to Belaz City."
They tied their camels out front and waited for Kazimir to go inside and find out whether the place had rooms. Kazimir saw the painted sign out front dubbing the place The Black Cactus and sighed in relief. He hadn't been too sure of the prominent language in Zexultan. He had never traveled this far south, but he had heard it was the common southern kingdom speak, which is what the sign had been painted in.
Kazimir entered the open arched door, squinting immediately from the thick smoke and odors of sativa, tabacco, and something else he couldn't identify. The expansive interior was packed with evening patrons, and the tables were loaded with card players, dice tossers, and drunk Zexultan citizens with their arms around the ample bottoms of curvy naked serving women and a few chiseled men. A fat man with a blanketing black beard of braids tied off with silver rings played an ornate ivory harp on the stage in the back. His fingers spidered over uncountable strings strumming a bizarre quirky melody like the one he had heard on his way into town. Evidently, the musical culture here had diverted into an adventurous branch of experimentation. Kazimir loved the arts, and he was obsessed with discovering new music and art forms in strange cultures, but he didn't know if he would be able to find something that captured his spirit in this kind of music. He stood watching the harp player and listening, trying to give it a chance for several minutes before he was interrupted by a naked serving girl with tattoos of green snakes covering most of her body.
"Well, hello deary! My name's Orva. Can I get you an ale, a wine or an elixir?" She had a rounded mass of thickly curled light brown hair and was doing her best to thrust her healthy breasts towards him.
"Uhm," Kazimir smiled, feeling the heat of embarrassment in his face. "Actually, sure! I'll take an ale; however, I was wondering if this establishment rented rooms for the night?"
Orva blushed. "Oh sir, I'm sorry but I'm booked out for four days. I'd love to bring you that ale and sit with you for a few minutes though."
"Oh no, I didn't mean for that reason, not that you aren't lovely and I'm sure it would be a night I wouldn't soon forget. It's just my friends and I just arrived from a long trek through desert, and we need a place to sleep."
"Oh? Well, sorry lovey," she said and tickled him under his chin. "Rooms are booked out for a couple of weeks here. Mostly for the girls. We don't get many travelers renting rooms."
"I see," said Kazimir. "Do you have any advice for me then? Is there somewhere close, even a stableman who might offer an empty stack of hay for us?"
She shook her head, her puffy hair jiggling. "Fraid not, lovey. I'll be right back with ale." She hurried away towards the bar, dodging a slap on her bottom from a large male patron and responding playfully with an accusing finger.
Kazimir waited. Intoxicated tavern patrons walked by him every so often, raising their cups in greeting or patting him on the back as if they knew him. A couple of Belazonians sat at the bar with skin as charcoal black as his own. This gave him a small comfort. He had already committed himself to the courtesy of buying an ale from the tavern, which he couldn't spare the coin for. He tried to keep an eye on Orva until she had been distracted by someone sitting at the bar, and then made his way back towards the entrance to inform the others when he passed a table of card players playing a game he recognized immediately. A thought occurred to him.
"Only three players?" Kazimir asked, smiling. "Leaves and hearts is much more exciting with four players."
The three men sitting at the table who had been staring at their dealt hands silently glared up at him.
"Who are you and why should we care?" asked the man sitting right next to where Kazimir stood. The man had only thin wisps of hair on the back of his head, an under-bite and a skin condition that had given him large patches of rosy scabs on his face and thick neck. The man wore a simple gray tunic beneath a vest of black sheepskin which was covered with a butcher's apron. Kazimir also noted a butcher's knife with a thick blade sheathed on his belt. It appeared he had won most of the hands so far with his six stacks of silver and gold coins. The other two men were thinner and younger.
Kazimir made a small bow and said, "My name is Kazimir of Belaz City, and I'm in need of a place to sleep for the night for myself and some friends of mine. It seems the place is booked out. I was wondering if any of you might be staying here tonight and if so, would you mind letting me sit in for a hand or two of your game and giving me the opportunity for my friends and I to share a room with you?"
The man with the skin condition laughed. "Why would we bother with that?"
"Now, hold on," said one of the thinner, younger men across the table. He was smoking a long stick of cloverleaf. He had red hair, a sunken face with crooked teeth. "What does he got to throw in the pot?"
Kazimir had prepared himself for this moment as he had begun to introduce himself with a hidden hand gesture and a tiny pinch of imagery powder. He pulled out the pouch he had tossed the imagery powder into and opened it just enough beneath the man with the skin condition's face for him to see inside. If it worked, the man should be seeing a bag full of emeralds instead of what little coppers and silvers he had.
The man's face lit up, eyes sparkling. He held out his hand. "Name's Ox Head! I'm the cook here at the Black Camel. My brother Brokitt owns the place. He's tending the bar. These two are Jate and Henrit. Jate is the red-haired one, smoking those awful smelling, pansy sticks. Henrit's the ugly one in the chainmail shirt. He thinks he's a knight with his rusty longsword, but really he's just lord of the dishes." Ox Head elbowed Henrit to his right who was narrowing his eyes.
Henrit quipped, "Your mother didn't seem to think I was ugly last night, or maybe if I am that explains where your face came from. She into the ugly ones."
Ox Head shook his head. "Anyways, these two idiots are regulars here. They just love coming back to give me their coin." He chuckled loudly then, holding onto his gut while Jate and Henrit rolled their eyes. He pulled out the empty chair beside him. "Have a seat, Kazimir! This should be loads of fun!"
Kazimir smiled but didn't take Ox Head's offer to shake his hand. He simply bowed instead. He had done his best to hide the residual illusion on his arm the entire time he had been inside, and no one had seemed to notice it. He didn't want to make it obvious now. "Great! I really appreciate this, my friends! I hope I remember how to play. It's been a long time." A lie. He played leaves and hearts with Xolin and Nochtli all the time back in Belaz City and he was good at it. Surely, the rules of the game hadn't changed too much this far south.
Ox Head shuffled the cards and began to deal out six cards to each of them. "All right, six card draws, advisers are lunatics."
Kazimir loosely understood the lingo they were using. The adviser was often used in Belaz as the wild card, which meant you could use it as an emperor, a champion or a priest. He reached into his pouch and pulled out what appeared to be a perfectly faceted emerald and placed it into the pot at the center of the table where the others only put in a few silver coins each.
Ox Head's eyes widened, and he smiled broadly.
Jate's mouth fell open, and he shot K
azimir a confused expression.
Henrit stared at Kazimir's wager and furrowed his brows, then shrugged.
As Kazimir looked over his cards, feeling optimistic about his chances, out of the corner of his eye he caught Xolin enter the tavern across the room with one hand holding the opening of his hood closed with only a small gap to see out from.
Orva stepped up to the table with a cup of ale in hand. "There you are, lovey!" She put the frothy cup on the table next to him and sat on his knee with her arm around his neck. "Nice hand," she said.
Kazimir felt his palms get sweaty. He grinned at Orva. Trying not to be too obvious about it, he glanced over at Xolin who was looking quite ridiculous darting his Head about as he searched the tavern for Kazimir with his hand holding the face of his hood together.
Please don't come over here, Kazimir thought. He tried to keep Orva's body between him and Xolin's line of sight. What on earth is he doing?
"Anyone want to draw a card?" asked Ox Head.
Kazimir had an emperor, a duke, two princesses, a four of leaves and a five of anvils. Overall, a lousy hand. He kept his face calm and void of tells. He still had a pinch of imagery powder in one of his three component pouches on his belt. He could easily change the faces of his cards if his bluffing didn't work, but he knew it was best to use the tried and true core of all illusionary magic which he never botched. Persuasion.
Kazimir glanced at the other three to get a gauge on their demeanor. Jate had put his left hand on his chin. A micro expression of a grin flashed across his face. He probably had a decent hand. Henrit kept adjusting himself in his chair and brushing down the wild hairs on his thick black mustache. Ox Head scratched the back of his balding head, sniffled, cleared his throat and finally sighed.
"So, we are wagering our room?" asked Henrit. "What do we do if we lose? Where we gonna sleep?"
"The kitchen," said Ox Head without missing a beat. Everyone laughed, except Henrit.
"With the dead pigs and Oxes?" Henrit said. "I guess it's no worse than your farting all night," said Henrit. "I have to cover my eyes to keep from going blind most nights."
"All joking aside," said Kazimir. "My friends and I wouldn't mind sharing your room. We could sleep on the floor."
Ox Head shook his head. "Nope. It's my room, and I say if you win it, it's completely yours for the night. Henrit and I will be fine for a night in the kitchen."
Jate drew two cards. Henrit drew one.
Ox Head tilted his head slightly, staring at his cards. "Staying," he said. "I think I'll add to the pot as well." He pushed a stack of seven gold coins in, enough to stay a few months at any inn.
Kazimir raised his eyebrows. "Well, well there, big spender." He reached into his bag and pulled out two more emeralds and pushed them with his thumb into the pot.
"Fuck it, I'm out!" conceded Henrit. "I got nothing!" He tossed his cards on the table.
"What in the sands are you doing with that woman's naked nasty parts wiggling all over your leg?" It was Xolin whispering into Kazimir's ear. He had found him.
Kazimir said through the corner of his mouth, "What are you doing in here? I asked you to wait outside."
Orva frowned at him and kept trying to get a peek inside the little gap of his hood he was still holding together. "Who is this?" she asked.
"A friend. Don't worry about him," Kazimir assured. "He's not very dangerous, and he was just leaving."
Xolin cleared his throat. "Now that stings a bit, Master Drajor. I can be very dangerous sometimes. Anyways, I came in to see if you were well. I mean it's been an hour or so you've been in here. But I see things are going quite well for you." Xolin moved his hood opening up and down gawking at Orva's nakedness. "Should we sleep outside with the camels or are you coming out before you take this one upstairs? I don't think your girlfriend Gretta's gonna be to happy about it."
Kazimir scowled at Xolin. "Gretta is not my girlfriend, and this beautiful lady was just serving me a drink. I'm about to win us all a room for the night, so if you're gonna stay here, please just stay quiet and watch."
Xolin nodded. "Sorry. Didn't mean to make you mad."
"Why's your friend got that hood pulled around his head so?" asked Ox head.
"He's got a skin condition, and he's not as comfortable with it as you seem to be with yours," said Kazimir. "I'm raising two more. Anyone else want to raise?" Kazimir shoved two more emeralds into the pot.
"Nope," said Jate.
Ox Head stared at Kazimir, his eyes twitching. He kept glancing back and forth from the pot to Kazimir.
It didn't seem Ox Head had fallen to the bluff. Kazimir decided to be safe about it. He made a discreet gesture with his hand over his cards and rubbed a bit of imagery powder over them just before he placed them face up onto the table. "Emperor's court!" he proclaimed with a big smile.
"Hey, those aren't emeralds," said Henrit. "Those are just coppers! This one's some kind of trickster!"
Suddenly, Ox Head slammed his butcher knife down on the table, slicing Kazimir's right hand completely off.
Orva screamed and jumped up.
Kazimir bellowed in shock, pulling his stump back as blood sprayed over the table and onto Ox Head's face and apron.
Ox Head smiled and stood up. "That's what happens to magi in The Black Camel! Get your fucking ass out of here!" He pulled his knife from where it had stuck into the table and chopped through Kazimir's hand six more times until it looked like several dark, skin-wrapped filets from palm to finger-sized in a pool of blood.
Xolin pulled back his hood then, revealing his corpse face to the entire tavern and removed his belt and cloak wrapping it around Kazimir's stump, then tying it tightly with the belt as a tourniquet.
As he walked with Kazimir through the tavern, people cried out and back away from them in horror. Kazimir heard many of them shouting, "The plague! The rotting sickness!"
As Xolin brought him outside, the last thing he saw before he fainted was Xolin's face returning to normal. The illusion dissipated.
20
AEILE
"It's good that you wish to leave now since it is dark. I highly encourage you to travel at night," said Nazurek.
Aeile had spent the last two hours covering the remains of the poor men who had been so inhumanely tortured and killed with stones, and then gathering up white marheema. Though Frikk and Grendy may have been criminals, she didn't believe they or anyone for that matter deserved such brutal suffering. Had not this strange possessive need entered her so suddenly, she would've just put an arrow through them like any other bandit who tried to kill her. It was as if something took over her thoughts, an involuntary trance to need to cause harm. It had happened as soon as Nazurek had forced her hand on the knife across Grendy's gut. Now she felt fine for the most part. It seemed odd she didn't feel the chill of the waterfall when they reentered the cave, though she had still been naked. Nazurek had changed her. Everything seemed sharper and closer to her. The trees whispered emotions into her head. She thought she'd heard the cave crickets talking in her head or communicating with her somehow.
They stood in a candlelit chamber deep within the cave. It looked like a makeshift laboratory area with all the jars of amputated body parts and various creatures and animals in preservative solutions.
"Though you are strong from feeding, the daylight will drain you of this strength rapidly. You will need to feed within only a couple hours, and you've already spent some of that energy picking those flowers outside." Nazurek picked up one of his petite surgical razors and admired it momentarily. It had a slender blade and a polished steel handle. Several blown glass containers and mortar and pestle rested atop a large slab of limestone serving as a table. An acrid sour smell lingered inside the musty scents of the turned earth that was natural for the depths of a cave.
"I'm leaving to help my sister," Aeile said, buckling the last few straps on her forearm of snug-fitting, black leathers Igneious had given her. She was glad to be clothed, but
she had thrown the outfit back at him when he first gave it to her. She had been surprised when she finally accepted it and discovered how well it fit her. "I don't care about anything else. And I should kill you for your trickery. I didn't ask for this depraved. . . Whatever it is."
"De Nekros. That's the name of the transformed in my world," said Nazurek.
"What do you mean, your world?" she asked. "You're from the West Lands?"
Nazurek smiled. "Well, not exactly no. I'm from a land outside of this world, so to speak. You could sail through all the seas and oceans in this world and still, you would never find it. You must be able to tear a hole in your reality to see my world. You see, it is similar to your world in shape and appearance, but it exists on a different reality."
"How could someone tear a hole in reality? That doesn't make any sense."
"Only a very powerful magician can do this. That is how I came to be here. I serve a very powerful magician adept who calls himself the King of Scion. He tore a hole through our world and pushed both Igneious and myself through it."
Aeile glared at Nazurek, narrowing her eyes to slits and pressing her lips together into a fine line. "So tell me then. Why did you save me? Or whatever you call this?" She pointed up and down her body. "What's the point? I doubt it was because you're a kind soul."
Nazurek smirked, toying the bones tied into his long black beard with his fingers. "You would be correct. I must take you to the Isle of the Mad, the heart of my operation here in your world. You must join the other de Nekros and grow strong by feeding off the lunatics who have been banished there."
"I won't," she said.
"Oh, but you will," said Nazurek. "I've been generous enough as it is by changing your fate from death, and as a show of my gratitude, I'm going with you to allow you to try to save your sister beforehand."
Aeile took a step back. "I think not. You're not going anywhere near my sister. I have loads of the white mariheema. And I certainly don't need an escort."
The Vanguards of Scion Page 13