by R C Gray
Skara squinted down at the paper and slid it back across the counter. “This is what I need,” he said, telling the woman his order, not bothering with the list.
Outside, Faine sat down the step of the building and watched the people walking around the square. Casually eating his kabob, he looked over at the sign to the Bramble Thorn Inn and wondered if any of his clothes were still left in his room. Taking another bite, the door behind him swung open as Skara stepped out. “I got you a kabob,” he said, handing the meat over.
Skara reached out and took the kabob from Faine. “How much?”
“It’s on me. And I still owe you a drink. Just buy us a second round, and we’ll call it even,” Faine said, taking a sizeable bite, the juices running down the stubble on his chin.
Skara looked around the busy streets, seeing the scowls and wide eyes of the people that stared at him as they passed. Shifting on his feet, he checked his pouches and daggers and looked over the Bramble Thorn. “Let’s get a drink, then. I’ve already been here too long.”
The two cut across the square and into the Inn, weaving between the crowds. Stopping just inside the door, Faine nodded and scratched the tip of his right ear as he looked over at the bartender behind the counter. The bartender ran a finger under his nose as if he had an itch and blinked his eyes twice. Sitting down at an empty table near the corner, Faine called over a barmaid to take their order. “I’ll take a Bromoran red ale.”
The barmaid looked over at Skara, “And you?”
Skara looked at several of the tables around him, not sure of what drinks they had. “Mossberry mead.”
The barmaid turned and headed towards the bar as Faine looked over at Skara. “So, what’s next for you?”
“I’ll head home. The same thing I always do.”
“But don’t you think a few things have changed since yesterday?”
The barmaid brought back their drinks and set them on the table, splashing a little mead out onto the side of the cup. “Will there be anything else?”
“Not right now,” Faine said, handing her several copper coins. “Check back in just a bit.”
“Things always change, but what else is there?”
“You never know what might happen. But you know where Renna is, and I’m usually around here somewhere,” Faine said, taking a drink of his ale.
Skara’s sharp teeth ripped off a chunk of meat from his kabob. Taking a sip from his cup as he chewed, he looked down at the table. “What are you two in town for? I heard you talking after she healed me. Something about me not knowing anything about whatever it is you two are doing.”
Faine clicked his tongue and rubbed the stubble on the side of his face. Looking around the room, he could see that most of the tables were empty, aside from a few people playing dice or cards on the opposite side. The inside of the inn was open in the center and had tables scattered throughout. The bar sat at the far end with a stairwell leading to the second story that stretched out over the kitchen and storerooms of the bar, leaving the main room completely open all the way up to the beams of the ceiling above. The balcony encircled the large, open space on three sides, with several rooms for rent branching off the upper level.
Looking up to the second floor, Faine could see the hallway leading to the door to his room. Tapping his hand on the table, he turned to Skara. “I have a room here. Come upstairs, and I’ll fill you in. The walls have eyes and ears in a place like this.”
“Is it that secret?”
“It’s not that it is, but I don’t like everyone knowing my business.”
“Then, why would you tell me?”
“Because you saved my life. And I saved yours. You might not think it, but that means something. We’re bonded now through a life debt. I would have died without you, and you could have died without me...and Renna.”
Skara frowned and picked at the cup with his nail as he thought about the spider. Why had he saved the elf in the first place? What was it about finding someone alive in the web that made him decide to cut him free? Maybe it had to do with his own feelings of being trapped or being alone in the forest for so long. Even after Faine had seen he was a goblin, he didn’t try to kill him or put him down. And despite his fatigue, he carried him over a mile to make sure he lived.
Faine sipped his drink and popped a piece of potato into his mouth. “Now I know you’ve been out there by yourself for, what, years? But maybe that’s not where you belong anymore. You came down here from Sonosa, and you managed to survive out there in the woods alone, which is impressive in itself; but is that all you want for yourself, to survive alone?”
“Is there really anything else?”
Faine nodded and finished his ale before standing and motioning for Skara to follow him up the stairs. Opening the door to his room, he stepped inside and went directly to the mattress and waited for Skara to come in and shut the door. Picking up the side of his straw mattress, he reached his hand up inside and pulled out a crinkled note and brought it to the table. “Have a seat.”
Skara climbed up into the chair, his small frame barely able to see over the high table.
“This,” Faine said, laying the note on the table, “is a note I found in one the mercenary’s rooms a few towns back. Take a look.”
Skara didn’t bother to look at the note. “Just tell me what it says.”
“It mentions something about a treasure here around Banrielle. It says that they were hired to guard someone here that could lead them to something important. So, I followed them here.”
“And it says treasure?”
“Well, no,” Faine said as he grabbed the note. “But why else would they be hired to come here and guard someone that could lead them to something important? Whatever they’re looking for, we’re gonna find it first.”
“Is that what got you into trouble at the cave? How did you end up there, anyway?”
Faine clenched his jaw and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I ended up there because I was stupid. Instead of waiting for a better moment, a more sober moment, I went into one of their rooms here and started looking around. Then, I got caught. I managed to make my way out the window, but they came around the back of the building and chased me. I thought I could lose them in the woods and go to Renna’s place, but I got turned around. I was a bit drunk, heard some noises, pulled my blades...” Faine looked up at the ceiling, laughing to himself and shaking his head, “and I tripped over a rock. Next thing I know, I woke up wrapped in webbing with a headache. And you know the rest from there. So, there it is; my near-death experience brought on by a bad choice.”
Skara nodded his head and looked around the sparsely furnished room, glancing at the clothes scattered across the floor before looking up at Faine. “So that’s what you do then, look for treasure?”
Faine looked at Skara as if he had just insulted him. “I guess if you really boil it down, yeah. But you make it sound so boring. We, Renna and I, get to travel where we want and make some coin doing it. Have you ever seen the Sanguine Gulf south of here or the Ineren Plains to the north?”
Skara shook his head.
“I have.”
“What are they like?” Skara said, sitting up higher in the chair. He had heard stories about the great horse races they held across the plains to the north, or the deep red seaweed that made the water look red to the south but had never had it described to him. He had wanted to travel beyond Sonosa or Banrielle one day, but the thought gradually slipped away, only occasionally creeping back in on sleepless nights when he was alone in the dark. He desired to be free and see the world, but it was his fear of how big the world was that held him back.
Faine leaned forward and rested his arm on the table. “They’re amazing. The plains stretch on for hundreds of miles and are rimmed with mountains and rolling hills. Cross between the wide gaps in between, and there are more plains on the other side. Tribes of nomadic people live and hunt there, moving from one place to another with the changing seasons. In th
e spring, the wind blows across the grasses, and the rain falls on the mountains, making everything smell sweet and new. And sometimes, the storms are so fierce there that the lightning looks like it’s ripping the sky in half. The thunder shakes your bones and sends you running for shelter. But when the storm clears, and the sun rises, it’s like you feel renewed.”
“And the gulf?”
“The gulf,” Faine said, leaning back in his chair, “is a lot different than the plains. The land reaches right up to the ocean, and there are long, sandy shores that spread out along the coast. The water out west towards Farengrath is warmer and a bit clearer, but Mivara is still beautiful. The waves sweep across the shore and put shells all along the beach. And farther out, you can see what has to be miles of red seaweed swaying under the water. It looks like drops of blood floating in a basin.”
“And what made you decide to leave home and travel? How’d you bring yourself to do it?” Skara said.
“That’s a story for another time. But the point is that there’s something more out there than risking your life to sell web for a few coins.”
“But it sounds like what you do can be just as dangerous.”
“You’re not wrong there,” Faine said, getting up out of his seat to look out the window. “But if it’s dangerous no matter where you go or what you do, why stay in one place? I mean, if people are happy where they are, then they should stay and be happy. But if you feel like something’s missing, you might just find it out on the road somewhere. We all have to die sometime, and I’d just rather be doing something I want rather than waste away being miserable doing the same thing until I’m too old to do anything else.”
Faine’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he looked out the window, watching the colored flags blowing softly in the wind. His face was blank as he watched several birds land on the swaying rope strung between the buildings. Looking down at the road below, he saw several of the mercenaries he had been trailing making their way towards the inn. “Look, I need to head back down to the common room. There may some trouble headin’ my way, so you might wanna get going.”
Thoughts about all the things that he should have said and done, but never did, flooded into his mind. He didn’t want to keep living the same life, doing the same things until the lonely end. He wanted to see what else was out there, to not be afraid to really live. Feeling a surge of confidence, Skara tightened the leather cord holding his hair before turning to look at Faine. “I didn’t get to finish my drink yet,” he said, moving to the door and out onto the balcony.
Faine shrugged and followed behind him as they made their way down the stairs and back to their table in the corner. Just as Faine sat down, the door to the inn opened, and a burly, bearded man stepped inside. The man was wearing black pants, and calf-high boots with a dagger tucked in the side. He wore thick, leather armor over his black tunic, and a broad sword hung at his side. Four men entered behind him, similarly dressed, but with various weapons hanging on them in different areas. The man looked around the room, and seeing Faine in the corner, he started walking in his direction.
The man’s heavy boots thudded against the floor as he walked over to Faine’s table, slamming his hands down on it, causing it to shake and spill the remainder of what was left in Skara’s mug. “So, thief, I see you made it back to town. Plannin’ to pilfer through our rooms again while we were out?”
“If I were planning on it, I would have already done it...while you were out,” Faine said as he looked up at the man leaning over the table. “Isn’t that what thieves do?”
The man slammed his hands back down onto the table. “I knew you were a no-good, thieving bastard. And look, you brought a little, green turd along to help you.” The man leaned in closer to Skara, giving him a fierce scowl. “Gods, what are you? You can’t be no bigger than four feet tall. I’ve seen piles of horse shit bigger than you,” the man said, laughing hard as he looked back at the group of men behind him.
Seeing Skara reaching for one of his daggers under the table, Faine put a hand over his arm to stop him. As much as he would like to watch the goblin stab the man, he knew that they were outmatched in a fight. By the time the first man would be killed, the rest of the group would be on them with weapons drawn.
“He has nothing to do with this,” Faine said, interrupting the man’s harsh laughter. “He’s just someone I was having a drink with.”
“Why does that not surprise me? It makes sense that scum like you would sit down with this...thing. But whether he’s here or not, we have business. Now,” the man said, straightening his back and cracking his knuckles, “this can be settled one of two ways. I can drag you outside by that pretty, blonde hair of yours and beat the shit out of you and leave you bleedin’ in the streets. Or, you can take out a knife and cut off one of your fingers as payment for tryin’ to rob us.”
“Which finger?” Faine said, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers in front of his face before lowering all of them but the middle one. “This one?”
The man’s face turned bright red as he pulled out a serrated knife from his belt and took a step towards Faine. Several of the men also drew daggers and took an offensive stance behind the large, bearded man.
“Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted a specific finger. But I have an option three that I think will be better for all of us.”
“And what might that be?” the man said, gritting his teeth and gripping his dagger hard enough that his knuckles were white.
“I think you should let me buy us all a drink.”
“You think a drink will make me change my mind about you tryin’ to steal from us?”
“I don’t, but I think that buying you a drink and giving you a gold coin might,” Faine said, looking calmly at the man.
“And what’s to stop me from just taking it?”
“Nothing, really. But I know I don’t want to get stabbed today. And I’m pretty sure you or any of your men back there don’t want to get stabbed either. So, I think you should let me buy us all a bottle of some of the finest wine you’ll ever drink and offer you a gold coin for your troubles. It was a mistake, and I was drunk.”
“The man sheathed his knife and turned to look at the men behind him. “What do ya’ think, lads? Should we have a drink and get paid, or take him outside and take the coin anyway?”
The men shifted and looked at each other before one of the men in the back spoke up. “I say we have a drink and get paid. Lots of people roamin’ ‘round out there now, and I’d rather not stir up trouble with so many eyes. Besides,” he said, looking at Faine, “I’m sure we’ll see him around here again.”
“There you have it, elf. Looks like we’ll be having a drink.”
The men pulled up chairs around the table as Faine called the barmaid over to take their order.
“Tell the bartender that I’d like a bottle of Andoran Red and enough mugs for each of us,” Faine said, placing several silver coins into her hand.
As the barmaid brought back the wine and mugs, Faine pulled the cork from the bottle and began pouring wine for each of the men, leaving just enough in the bottle for Skara and himself.
“A toast,” Faine said, raising his mug in the air, “To many long years ahead.”
The men at the table grunted, but each raised their mug to the toast, waiting for Faine and Skara to drink before they finished their wine in one large swig.
As the men set their mugs down on the table, the door to the inn opened, and another mercenary appeared in the doorway and started striding towards the table.
“I have news,” the man said, placing his fist over his heart. “The camp is nearly ready outside of town, and the brothers will be arriving before sundown.”
Faine tossed down the gold coin on the table and nudged Skara to stand. “Thank you, gentlemen. But this sounds like personal business, so I’ll leave you to it. Here’s your coin, and I hope you enjoyed the wine. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from no
w on.”
Before the burly man could say anything, Faine and Skara were moving up the stairs towards Faine’s room. The messenger eyed them as they left the table, still with his hand over his chest, awaiting orders from the bearded man.
“Make sure that you do!” the man said. “Or next time we may not just settle for coin and a drink.”
Faine turned and looked down at the men from the balcony above and nodded before entering his room and shutting his door. Once the door was closed, he began to frantically shove his belongings into a sack and hastily opened the window.
“What are you doing?” Skara said, stepping to the side to move out of Faine’s way.
“We have to go. Now!”
“Why, what’s going on?
“Well,” Faine said, “I just poisoned everyone. Everyone except for the messenger, that is. And he saw our faces. So, we better be leaving.”
“You what? Skara said, his eyes wide.
“No time,” Faine said, shoving Skara towards the window as muffled screams and loud crashes could be heard coming from the common room below.
Giving one last look around the room, Faine followed behind Skara as they made their way out the window, quickly climbing down the side of the Bramble Thorn Inn; the sounds of frantic yelling echoing in the empty room behind them.
Two in the Bushes
Lowering themselves onto the partially cobbled road below the Bramble Thorn Inn, Skara and Faine stood with their backs pressed against the wall, listening as frantic yelling and footsteps could be heard rushing out of the inn.
“What do you mean you poisoned them?” Skara said, looking up at the elf.
“It really can’t mean much else.”
“You’re going to get us killed. I wanted a drink and maybe an argument, not to get run through because you poisoned everyone.”
“And I got you a drink.”
“And what about gett-”
“Look, now’s not the best time. They were most likely gonna kill us anyway. We can argue about it later.”