The Beggar's Past

by J B Drake

  Anieszirel shook her head at this. “My dear, at his point, I’m not even sure he’s elven.”

  “This is crazy…” Marshalla began as she stared at the door. Then, she sat rigid as her eyes went wide.

  “What is it?” Anieszirel demanded.

  Marshalla turned her gaze back to Anieszirel. “He didn’t remember.”

  Anieszirel frowned. “He didn’t what?”

  “When everyone left, asked him how he felt, remember what he said?”

  Anieszirel stared, frowning.

  “That he didn’t remember,” she said at last.

  Nodding, Marshalla leant forward. “He done that before, gone wandering, then not remember where he gone or what he done.”

  “Wait, truly?”

  Marshalla nodded.

  “How often?”

  “Don’t know, wasn’t keeping track.”

  “Well…did anything happen while he was wandering?”

  Marshalla shook her head as she stared into the ether. “Heard stories sometimes, a couple days after, about things that happened to people, you know? Some of them simple killings, or people gone missing, you know? One time, they found the man’s leg, nothing else. Didn’t think too much of it all, just thought lucky us, you know?”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  Marshalla shrugged, “Don’t know.”

  “Think, Marsha,” Anieszirel pressed. “When did this start? Or has it been happening for as long as you’ve known him?”

  “Uhm…” Marshalla stared once more into the ether. Then, without warning, the young girl’s eyes grew wide as all colour drained from her face.

  “The boat,” she whispered at last, her mouth agape.

  “The what?”

  “Oh, gods.”

  “Marsha, look at me!”

  Marshalla complied, her face whiter than the chronodragon had ever seen it.

  “What boat?” Anieszirel asked.

  Swallowing hard, Marshalla nodded. “When me and him first met, he just got off a boat. Only he didn’t remember what happened when he was on there, and everyone else on it turned up dead.”

  Anieszirel frowned. “And nobody suspected him?”

  Marshalla shook her head. “We thought it was someone else.”

  “Someone else?” Anieszirel asked, her frown deepening. “I thought you said everyone else died.”

  “Yeah,” Marshalla nodded. “We thought someone else got on there, killed everyone and left, but didn’t see Tip.”

  “I suppose I can’t fault that logic,” the chronodragon sighed, then stared into the ether.

  “What you going to do?” Marshalla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Anieszirel shook her head. “I don’t know. If this power’s been in him longer than you’ve known him, you’re as much in the dark as I am.”

  Then, the chronodragon sighed. “Till I learn of his past, there isn’t much I can do. But I will tell you what I…what we can’t do.”

  Marshalla frowned. “What?”

  “We can’t ever let him know of our suspicions. I do believe the real Tip is in there somewhere, but there’s something else in there too, and whatever that something is, we cannot risk tipping our hand to it.”

  Marshalla stared at her door once more, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good,” Anieszirel replied, nodding as well. Then, she smiled.

  “Be strong, Marshalla,” she said as she raised a hand to the young elf’s cheek, forcing Marshalla’s gaze upon her once more. “If you were in any danger, he would’ve hurt you a long time ago.”

  Marshalla stared at her in silence, but as Anieszirel stared into the elven girl’s eyes, she saw within them a fear that matched her own.

  “Be strong,” she repeated, then faded from view.

  Secrets And Lies

  Yawning, Maline placed the jar of gorgon scales upon the counter.

  “Yawning this early?” the elderly mage at the counter raised an eyebrow as he pulled out his purse. “Mardaley working you to the bone, is he?”

  With an embarrassed smile, Maline shook her head.

  Grinning, the elderly mage turned his attention to the table behind Maline, and the storekeeper seated by it.

  “You hear that, Mardaley?” he yelled.

  Raising his gaze, Mardaley frowned. “Hear what?”

  The mage grinned, ignoring Maline’s wide-eyed stare and the vehement shaking of her head.

  “You’re being a slave-driver, you old coot! This poor woman can barely stay on her feet!”

  “Who’re you calling an old coot? You’re not so young yourself, you know!”

  Wincing, Maline offered her palm to the mage, drawing his gaze from Mardaley to her.

  “If he works you too hard,” the mage said as he placed several gold coins in Maline’s palm, “just come work for me.”

  “Now, don’t you start that again, Tethurn!” Mardaley cried. “Not again!”

  Snickering, the elderly mage picked up the bag within which Maline had placed his purchases and, giving Maline a wink, turned and left.

  “Maline…?” Mardaley began as the door closed.

  Pursing her lips, Maline turned to him.

  “What was all that about?”

  Maline shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Shaking his head, Mardaley made his way to the stairs.

  “Honest, nothing!” Maline added.

  Stopping at the stairs, Mardaley frowned. “He said I was working you too hard.”

  Maline shrugged. “Was just yawning is all.”

  “Yawning?”

  Maline nodded.

  Mardaley stared at her for a spell.

  “You were the one who said I should loose the enchantments about here,” he said at last. “I can bring them back, you know.”

  Maline shook her head. “Them spells cost too much to keep going. You got to cut back on them expenses or you going to run this place into the ground.”

  Mardaley smiled. “I ran this store for years with them, Maline.”

  “Yeah,” Maline nodded, “bloody miracle, that. Them store books scary to look at.”

  At this, Mardaley’s smile dissipated, but Maline’s grew.

  “It’s fine, Mardaley, honest. Just need a bit of a rest is all. But if it gets too much, will let you know, promise.”

  Pursing his lips, Mardaley stared at Maline, who grinned at him. Their stares were eventually broken by the sound of the door being opened once more. As one, they turned to their new customer. Neither was ready for who it was.

  “Thane?” Maline exclaimed as Mardaley glowered.

  Closing the door behind him, Thane smiled at Maline, but as he turned to Mardaley, his smile dissipated as he nodded.

  “Good morning, Master Templeton,” he said as he headed over to the counter.

  Mardaley kept his peace.

  Thane turned to Maline, his smile returning as he nodded once more. “Maline.”

  Smiling, Maline nodded back.

  Turning once more to Mardaley, Thane’s smile faded once again. “I was wondering if I could impose on you for a moment, sir.”

  Mardaley made his way down the stairs, his gaze upon the elf. “About what?”

  Thane moved to speak, then fell silent, as if swallowing his words.

  “What is it, Thane?” Maline asked as silence fell upon them all.

  “I…” he began, then the door swung open once more.

  Falling silent, Thane moved to the far corner, allowing Maline to serve the customer who’d entered.

  Tearing her gaze from Thane, Maline turned to the elven woman who’d entered, while Mardaley kept a cold eye upon Thane. Both men were silent as Maline served the elven woman, neither speaking till they were all alone once more.

  “What do you want, Thane?” Mardaley demanded.

  “Well, I…” he began again, then fell silent once more.

  “You’re wasting my time, boy,” Mardaley snapped. “What do you want?”
/>
  “I was wondering if you had any open positions, sir,” he replied, just as Maline moved to speak.

  “Open positions?” Mardaley frowned.

  Thane nodded.

  “You wish to work for me?”

  Again, Thane nodded.

  Cocking his head to the side, Mardaley stared at Thane, his frown deepening.

  “No,” he said at last.

  At his words, Thane’s face fell, and with a nod, he sighed.

  “Thank you for your time,” he mumbled, then turned for the door.

  “Why you want to work here?” Maline asked.

  Thane shrugged as he turned back to her.

  “Nobody wishes to hire me.” he smiled. It was a most bitter smile. “My reputation precedes me still, it seems.”

  “And you thought I would overlook that reputation?” Mardaley growled.

  Thane turned to Mardaley, his smile fading. “I had hoped, sir. You are known to take on the desperate.”

  Mardaley stared hard at the elf.

  “I have no use for you, Thane,” he said at last. “Leave. Now.”

  Nodding, Thane dropped his gaze.

  “Well, you don’t,” Maline said as she turned to glare at Mardaley, “but you not the one in here most of the time.”

  Mardaley’s frown returned as his eyes narrowed. “Meaning what, precisely?”

  “Well,” Maline began, her glare dissipating rapidly, “you not here that much, is you? If you not training Tip, you out there doing gods know what—”

  “Like I said before,” Mardaley interjected, “if the work is too onerous, I can recast my enchantments and reanimate some of the items around here.”

  “Them things cost too much, Mardaley. You making decent profit now, let’s keep it that way, eh?”

  “But you wish me to take on Thane,” Mardaley said. “Don’t you think his wages will eat into that profit?”

  “Not as much as them spells would,” Maline replied just as Thane moved to speak.

  With a tight frown, Mardaley stared from Maline to Thane.

  “No,” Mardaley said after a spell, shaking his head. “We can manage without him. And if things are that difficult for you, I’ll have more time to spend around here after Tip’s Birthing.”

  “I’m happy to work till then, sir,” Thane offered.

  “There, see?” Maline added.

  Mardaley stared at both in turn, his frown unmoved.

  “My answer is still no.”

  “What’s the harm, though, eh?” Maline pleaded. “Why not try him for a month or two. He not pulling his weight, kick him out.”

  “Yes.” Thane nodded. “A month’s trial. A week even.”

  “There, see?”

  Mardaley stared at both in turn once more, then his eyes rested on Maline.

  “Have you truly forgotten what he tried to do to Marsha?”

  At this, Maline could no longer hold his gaze.

  “And Tip?”

  “I know what I did was wrong,” Thane replied. “But sir, all I wish is to make amends.”

  “You given plenty people second chances, Mardaley,” Maline said, staring at the storekeeper once more. “Why not give him one?”

  Mardaley glared at Thane, his eyes boring into the elf in a manner that made the former Mage Adept wilt where he stood. Then, the storekeeper sighed.

  “You know what time I open,” he said.

  At those words, Thane’s eyes widened. Throwing the largest grin Mardaley had ever seen from him at Maline, Thane forced a serious frown upon his lips as he nodded at Mardaley.

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “I—”

  “Don’t call me that,” Mardaley cut in, shaking his head.

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t call me sir.”

  “My apologies, si…my apologies.”

  “My name is Mardaley,” Mardaley continued. “Use it.”

  Thane nodded. The edges of his lips had begun to twitch.

  “If you wish to work here, you must be here precisely at the start of our day, and leave when we leave.”

  Once more, Thane nodded. He was biting his lips now.

  “If you are late even once,” Mardaley continued, “you no longer work here.”

  “I won’t be, I sw—”

  “If you complain, even once,” Mardaley continued, “you no longer work here.”

  Thane nodded in response.

  “Your wages are what I decide them to be, not a copper more. If you demand more, you no longer work here.”

  Again, Thane nodded.

  “You start tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  With his grin breaking free, Thane turned to Maline, who nodded at him, a grin upon her lips too. Nodding, he turned to Mardaley once more.

  “You won’t regret this, sir!”

  Mardaley raised his chin at him.

  “Mardaley.” Thane winced.

  Mardaley nodded. “We shall see.”

  Nodding, Thane headed for door. As he reached it, however, he stopped, turning to Mardaley once more.

  “Might I impose on you one final time?”

  Mardaley raised an eyebrow in response.

  “Might I ask for my first wages to be paid early?”

  The scowl upon Mardaley’s lips froze poor Thane where he stood.

  “My rent is due,” Thane added softly. “It’s either that or the streets for me.”

  “Why you wasting coin on rent?” Maline exclaimed. “Merethia’s got hospices you can—”

  “My reputation precedes me, Maline,” he replied with a bitter smile. “None will open their doors to me.”

  “Oh,” was all Maline could manage.

  “Let’s see how tomorrow goes,” Mardaley added.

  Grinning, Thane nodded at the storekeeper. “You won’t be disappointed, Mardaley, upon my honour.”

  “We shall see.”

  Grinning still, Thane nodded once more and turned to the door behind him.

  “You regret it?” Maline asked as he swung the door open.

  Stopping, Thane turned to her. “Hunh?”

  “What you said, about what happened at that storehouse, you regret it?”

  Thane’s grin slowly faded as he stared at Maline in silence for a spell.

  “Yes,” he said at last, in a tone that carried great sadness and pain. “But had I to do it all over again, even knowing what it would cost me, I’m not sure I’d have done any different. And that’s what hurts the most.”

  Forcing a smile, Maline nodded. “You a good man, Thane.”

  With a short laugh, Thane shook his head.

  “No, I’m not, Maline,” he replied. “I am nothing of the sort.” And with that, he left the store.

  A tense silence fell upon Mardaley and Maline, hanging about them like a smothering fog. At first, Maline pretended all was well, dusting and tidying the counter-top as she forced a hymn to her lips, but at last she turned to Mardaley. He’d been staring at her with pursed lips.

  “What?” she demanded.

  At her words, Mardaley smiled. “You have a big heart, woman.”

  Maline scoffed at this.

  “Bigger than mine, at least.”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance,” she replied.

  Grinning, Mardaley nodded before turning to head back to the table.

  “Oh, by the bye,” he said as he went, “since this was your idea, you’re the one to tell Marsha Thane works here now.”

  “Oh, bloody hells,” Maline whispered as her face turned ashen.

  Just then, the door swung open once more, forcing Maline to avert gaze from Mardaley, missing the smug smile upon his lips.

  As was customary for them, it was quite dark when Mardaley and Maline finally closed for the day, and they were exhausted. Walking the near-empty streets, both were grateful to be heading to their beds.

  Talking as they went, the pair let their feet guide them as they recalled the events of the day, what stock was near-depleted, and which of it n
eeded replenishing urgently. So intent were they on each other’s words, and so determined were they to reach their beds, that neither noticed the lumbering shadow that followed them, a shadow that went to great pains to keep at a distance, stopping only when the pair reached home. And as they walked into Mardaley’s house, the dishevelled elf that was Fargus glowered from the shadows as he watched Mardaley close the door behind a laughing Maline.

  It was in the shadows he sat, his eyes upon Mardaley’s door as his sneer grew with each passing moment, and as he sat staring, his hand gripped his blade tightly. It was a rusted excuse for a dagger, but one which had gained him many a fortune in the past, and as he caressed its edge, his mouth watered at the spoils that awaited him behind Mardaley’s door. All he needed was to get across the threshold, get within and out of sight of any passing peacekeeper. Only this time he might do things differently. This time, he might need his blade to do more than simply terrify.

  Tearing his gaze from the door, the vagabond cast a glance up and down the street. Those few he saw were more interested in getting home than in anyone else’s presence. Smiling, he stepped out of the shadows and walked over to Mardaley’s door. As he reached it, he forced a sad frown upon his lips. Then, with his blade within his trouser pocket and a hand firmly upon its grip, he knocked.

  “Let it be Maline,” he whispered. “Let it be Maline.”

  He did not have long to wait.

  “Fargus!” Maline hissed as she stared wide-eyed at her former beloved.

  Fargus smiled. The treasures within were as good as his.

  “Hey, Maline.”

  “You can’t—” Maline began.

  “Not here to cause trouble,” he replied in as sincere a tone as he could muster. “Sorry for what happened before. Was the drink, swear.”

  Maline stared at him. He could smell her fear.

  “What your mage friend said, it got me thinking,” he continued. “Not been treating you right, been real mean to you. You deserve better, pet, better than me. Didn’t come to cause no trouble, swear. Just came to say sorry, pet, that’s all.”

  Maline stared at him in silence for a spell, then glanced behind her. But she remained where she stood.

  “Why you got to be so thick, woman?” Fargus snarled in his mind.

  “Not come to rob your new man, pet, swear,” he said. “See, not wearing me mask. See?”

  Maline remained unmoved still. But while he could still smell her fear, he could see it was waning.