by Dave Gross
Beside her stood her brother Xostromo, whose timely arrival with the cavalry of Lastwall had spared us from making our own version of Arnisant’s sacrifice. Xostromo assumed a more natural human form than his sister’s metallic elf. He stood exactly my height, a man of Chelish features with sun-bronzed skin and silver-white hair. He wore the simple but fine garb of a monk of Iomedae, complete with its linen satchel, in which he had secured the Bone Grimoire.
As we emerged from the castle into bright sunlight, Xostromo turned to me. “I am pleased to meet a lord of Cheliax who honors the great general.”
“Despite the current regime, the people of Cheliax have never forgotten that Iomedae was one of us before her ascent to godhood. Nor shall we forget the sacrifice of Arnisant.”
“May your travels bring you to Vythded Monastery one day.” He offered me a martial bow. “But if they do, please do not bring the Codex.”
I patted my own satchel. Until we could find a reliable manner in which to destroy them, we had agreed to hide the three parts of the Gluttonous Tome. “While the monastery may be defensible, please consider hiding the Grimoire elsewhere. No, do not tell me where. Do not tell your sister, either. It is better no one else can track them as easily as I did.”
“We understand, Count,” said Svannostel. “Remember, we have some experience in this matter.”
“My apologies,” I said. “I am perhaps too accustomed to giving commands both in war and afterward.”
Xostromo said, “Will you accept Veena Heliu’s offer to teach at the War College?”
“While flattering, the Precentor Marshal’s offer was a mere courtesy.”
“I think not,” said Xostromo. “The tales of your actions in the Worldwound campaign have spread. It is only a matter of time before your part in thwarting the rise of Zutha is also known.”
On the latter point, I feared he was correct. The best I could hope was to manage the narrative before it escaped Vigil. If I could trust Eando Kline, that effort was already underway.
One after the other, the dragons clasped my hand, transformed into their true forms, and took to the air. Svannostel flew west, along the River Esk toward her lair beneath the Sleeper. Xostromo went north, toward the Hungry Mountains and his brothers and sisters in Vythded Monastery.
After watching the bronze dragons depart, Arnisant and I went to the fabled stables of Castle Overwatch. Janneke emerged as we approached. Her new black-and-red armor stood out from the bronze-and-white uniforms of the castle guard. It would match the livery of my servants perfectly.
“Your Excellency,” she said with a Chelish salute. She had been practicing the gesture ever since we agreed on her continuing service. “Your horses are fit and frisky. The hostler says there’s been another offer to buy them.”
“What did you reply?”
“Not at any price.”
“And the carriage?”
“The wainwrights repaired the wheels, but they say the damage to the body appears to be repairing itself. Is that … normal?”
“No, but it is expected.” The carriage’s creator was a druid of great power—perhaps even more powerful than Kazyah the Night Bear. Even several years since its last repair, I had barely begun to discover all of its magical attributes. “Very good, Janneke. You may have the rest of the day to yourself.”
“Have you spoken with Radovan?” she said. “That is, if I see him, should I tell him—?”
“Leave it to me.”
“As you wish, Excellency.” She made a perfect Chelish bow before withdrawing.
I left the castle and descended the hill. The sound of drums and flutes drifted from the northern markets as we strolled southeast. There, beside Southgate, I found The Lady’s Shield-Hand, Vigil’s most popular tavern.
Eando Kline awaited me at a window table. As he spied me, he signaled the barman to draw another draught. It arrived moments after I sat, along with a board of smoked meats, fruits, breads, and cheeses.
“Did you go to the lodge?” said Kline. Since our arrival in Vigil, he asked me the question every time we met.
“No,” I said. “Did you?”
“You’re the one the venture-captain keeps inviting for tea and ‘a chat.’”
“What makes you think I would share our secrets with the Pathfinders? I have told you time and again that I trust the Decemvirate no more than you do.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, it’s just you were with them for so much longer than I was, and you always seemed so pleased to publish your findings.”
“I may indulge in pride—among other sins—but I am no fool.”
“No more than any man, I suppose.”
I disliked his insinuating tone. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” He failed to suppress a sly smile.
“Do not toy with me, Kline.”
“Oh, look, here comes Lady Illyria.”
I stood at once, composing myself for a greeting before I saw that Lady Illyria was nowhere to be seen.
Kline drowned his chuckle with a long pull from his bitter ale.
“Very amusing.” I sat and drank my own beer. It was cool and malty, its flavor improved rather than diminished by the tankard’s wood.
“You sure you don’t want to ride back with Kaid’s Band?”
“I prefer a sea voyage to another trek across the Hold of Belkzen. I am weary of orcs.”
“Eando!” called a man from across the bar. I turned to see a curly-haired Ustalav approaching. A scar formed a chevron across his nose and either cheek. When he saw me, his brow furrowed.
Kline shook his head, and the man veered off to walk straight out of the tavern.
“The bard?” I said.
Eando nodded. “He’s a real piece of work. I first heard him telling the story of the Worldwound Gambit as if he’d been one of Gad’s team. Later, he was telling the crowd he’d been in Whitethrone during the interregnum. I know for a fact he was nowhere near Irrisen.”
“Then he’s perfect. How much have you told him?”
“Pretty much everything, but with all of the critical details altered.”
“My identity?”
“‘A knight of Taldor,’ not that it matters. By the time he tells the tale of Zutha’s Crypt, he’ll be the hero of the story, and no one will be able to identify you as his patron.”
“Well done. The last thing I want is for word of my connection to the runelord to reach the court of Cheliax.”
“Are you doing the same with the so-called ‘Legend-Singer’?”
“Sharina is a legitimate playwright, although no less mercenary in her desire for material and, of course, funding,” I said. “With her I have shared other tales, and for a different purpose.”
Kline clacked his tankard against mine, and we drank. When I set mine back on the table, he reacted as if seeing something behind me. He snorted into his beer, then tipped it back to finish in a hurry.
“A valiant effort,” I said. “But you cannot fool me twice.”
“I should have known I’d find you boys in your cups,” said Lady Illyria. “How many have you had?”
I stood in haste, careful not to spill my beer.
“Two,” said Kline, slamming his tankard down and standing. “But I’ve got to go.”
“Two, barkeep!” said Illyria. She took Kline’s place and set a package on the table. She had her hair freshly coiffed in black roses frosted in a shade of purplish-red. She wore a white summer dress embroidered in a sash of the same hue—amaranthine, I realized—with one padded shoulder serving as a perch for the drake. Amaranthine hopped off her shoulder and claimed a piece of cheese from the board.
“Have fun, kids,” said Kline. He paid the barkeep and left.
“What have you there?” I nodded at the parcel.
“A gift.”
“Oh?” I reached for it.
She slapped my hand away. “It’s not for you.”
“Oh.”
“Hm,” said Illyria. “I can’t decide whether that or ‘Ah!’ is more adorable.”
“I assure you, I make no effort to appear adorable.”
“That’s what makes it adorable.”
The barkeep placed a beer in front of each of us. Illyria took the one in front of me. “Kline said you’d had two. I need to catch up.”
“I had only this one.”
“Then you need to catch up with us.” She nodded at the second tankard. Amaranthine arched her slender head over its mouth and licked at the foam. After a pleased trill, she lapped up more.
“Be careful,” I said. “At her body weight, it will not take much to make her tipsy.”
“You’re a fine one to talk after all these daytime beers.” She took a long draught that left a foamy mustache on her lip.
“I told you, this is the only beer I have drunk today.”
“And how about the food?”
“Who appointed you the minder of my diet?”
“It’s a voluntary position.”
“I never asked—”
She put a finger on my lips. “You didn’t have to, darling.”
“Darling?”
“Would you prefer I not call you darling?”
I had to consider the question. “No. It is just—”
“I’ve seen you at your worst, haven’t I?”
That was surely true. “And you still—?”
She put her hand on mine. “And I still.”
“Well … Then … I, ah, I suppose…”
“You’ll, ah, escort me home to Westcrown and let me introduce you to my, ah, mother.”
“Now wait just a moment.”
“Yes?”
“I never said anything about meeting your mother.”
“Not yet you haven’t.”
Radovan
Zora pushed the boat off the shore and into the water. I looked back at the lighthouse. She was going to have to pass through the light at least once before getting out of range. If she was quick, she could make a clean getaway. I’d managed to break her out of the local jail, but if they caught her escaping it would be the castle dungeons for sure.
“You going to be all right?” I said.
“I’m still a little pissed Janneke had me put in jail. You could have said something sooner.”
“I didn’t want to tip her off that I planned to bust you out. Element of surprise. You know.”
“You didn’t actually have to break in, you know. Your boss could have bribed a guard.”
“He sort of did,” I said. “I’ll let him know later. Anyway, be thankful it was only the city jail, not the dungeon. They say nobody ever escapes the castle dungeon here.”
“There are worse things than being surrounded by drunks, I suppose. The worst thing was the food. Porridge morning, noon, and night. Nothing in it, either. It made me miss the trail rations.” She put a hand on my arm but took it away again before I could do anything about it.
“What I meant was, you going to be all right in Ustalav?”
“I have cousins in Caliphas. Maybe there’s something for me there. If not, I’ll fish up enough coin for passage back to Korvosa. It’s all the same to me, as long as I don’t have to cross the orc lands.”
“Goddamned orcs.”
“Goddamned orcs,” she agreed. She grabbed my collar and surprised me by pulling herself in for a kiss. There wasn’t much to it, but it was a little something nice.
“See you around, ’spawn,” she said.
“See you around, sweetheart.”
She waited for the lighthouse beam to pass again before pushing off. I watched her go, holding my breath until I was sure she was out of range of the light. She made it.
I slipped around the wall and sauntered back up the hill. Kiss from a Sczarni girl makes me saunter.
The Watchknights and gate guards gave me the hairy eyeball, but nobody bothered me. Now and then I even got a nod from the ones that saw me coming in. When the crusaders escorted us back to town, everybody turned out to see us paraded up to the castle. We got a fancy reception, and the kid they’d made Watcher-Lord even made a speech. He was such a pretty fellow that parents held their daughters by the elbow to keep them from swooning. I didn’t like him.
As I got close to the inn, Janneke yelled, “Hey, Radovan!”
I crossed the street to join her. The boss had bought her a fancy new suit of armor in Chelish colors. I never liked wearing the house livery, but seeing her in it made me jealous.
“How’d the jailbreak go?” she said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked around but didn’t see any city guards lying in wait or anything. “How the hell did you know?”
“I know you. I saw the way you and Zora were talking. I had a feeling you’d find a way to help her out. I’m glad you did.”
“Then why’d you put her in the damned jail in the first place?”
“Because this way nobody can say I let her escape. The Vigil jailers lost her, not me. My professional reputation remains intact.”
“You and your reputation should get a room.”
She laughed a little too hard for one of my lamer jokes. She said, “Did you talk to the boss?”
I didn’t like the way she called him that. I was the only one who called him that. “No, I’m supposed to catch up with him at the inn.”
“He already left for the playhouse.”
“Damn, I was supposed to go with him.”
“Illyria’s in her room. She has your ticket.”
“Why didn’t he take her with him?”
She shrugged. “Say, I’ve got the rest of the night off. Why don’t you skip the play? We could go to that bar you like, the Drakkar. Maybe there’ll be a fight.”
“Nah, I’m not in the mood.”
“Or we could skip the tavern and, you know, find someplace away from the boss’s rooms.”
That wasn’t what I expected to hear, but for once, I wasn’t in the mood for that, either. “Why do you keep calling him ‘the boss’? We’re taking a ship back home. We don’t need a driver.”
“He said he’d tell you himself.” She grimaced. “Maybe you ought to hear it from me.”
“What?”
“Count Jeggare hired me as his bodyguard.”
My hands and feet turned cold.
“Maybe he’s decided he needs two,” she said.
I looked her in the eye. “He never has more than one. There was one guy before me. There was one guy before that. There’s always one guy.”
“Maybe he’s got a different job for you,” she said. “A better one.”
There wasn’t any other job, not for me with my knife, my spurs, and my big smile. Janneke knew it as well as I did.
I was fired.
There’d been times I wasn’t the best at my job. When I stabbed him in the heart, I guess I became the opposite of a bodyguard. I couldn’t blame the guy for wanting somebody else to watch his back.
“Come with me.” Janneke tugged on my arm. “I’m buying. We’ll get drunk and dance and step on so many feet they’ll have to fight us.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m gonna turn in.”
“If you change your mind…”
“You’ll be at the Drakkar.”
I turned away without looking back. I walked back to the inn and went up to my room. As I put the key in the lock, Illyria opened her door across the hall. She peered out, the drake on her shoulder. “You’re late.”
“For what?”
“Varian wanted you to accompany him to the play. He had something to discuss.”
I waved her off. “I already heard it.”
“He wanted you to see this particular play.”
“I’ll catch a puppet show in the market tomorrow.”
“Come here.” She crooked a finger to beckon me into her room.
Plenty of noble ladies had crooked that finger at me before, and usually I went into their rooms with them. It’d s
erve him right to tumble with his girl after he fired me.
I couldn’t do that, though. Even in the worst of times, he’d been a friend. In the best of times, he’d be the closest thing I ever had to a brother. I stayed in the hall. “I don’t think I oughtta.”
“Don’t be obstinate. I have something here for you.”
Sweet Desna, I thought. Thanks for smiling on me with all the women tonight, but could you spread it out a little?
When she saw I wasn’t budging, Illyria went inside to fetch something. I’d got the wrong idea. She wasn’t trying to seduce me. She came out and gave me a package wrapped in fancy cloth. “Open it.”
It was a new leather jacket, supple, with thick supports on the shoulders. It even had slots for my spurs, just the way I liked. I felt along the sleeves and found hidden pockets in all the right places. There was only one problem.
“It’s purple.”
“It’s amaranthine,” she said. “More red than purple. I thought it the perfect match between your color and mine.”
I liked the red better, but gift horses and mouths. “Thanks,” I said. “It’s real nice.”
“Now put it on, and go to the playhouse. Here! Here’s your ticket. Hurry! You can still get there before the main show.”
I didn’t want to, but she watched as I changed my shirt and jacket, and pretty much shoved me down the steps and out onto the street. As I walked away, the drake flew over and perched on my shoulder. “Hey! Go back there, you.”
“It’s all right,” said Illyria. “I could use a nap, and that curious girl would love to see a play.”
It felt weird walking with a little lizard on my shoulder. She nibbled at my ear, and people looked at me funny. Funnier than usual.
The Legendary Playhouse was the actual name of the place, not like its reputation or something. The boss had been having secret meetings with its owner all week, but he never told me why. He must have made up his mind to give me the boot before we even got to Vigil. No reason to keep me in on things anymore.