by James Somers
When Nathaniel and Marissa passed through into the back room behind the bar, they noticed the grandeur of the Fiddler’s domain. The three level chamber had been decorated much like the throne room of some ancient oriental emperor. The aroma of incense washed over them as a hundred tendrils of flavored smoke migrated toward the ceiling. Costly decorative rugs lined the floor while exquisite tapestries hung from ceiling to floor. Countless racks held weapons of wood and steel sealed behind glass.
Marissa’s eyes sparkled with delight. Weapons she had not seen even among her own people in decades sat on display for the taking, or at least the asking. Marissa gave Nathaniel a sidelong glance, thinking, he might just be valuable after all.
Percival sealed the door behind them. Upon a throne of cushions sat an oriental man of small stature compared to Nathaniel—who was a man of small stature compared to Percival—who was not small at all. The Fiddler wore sandy garments like those of a shaolin monk and his dark hair was shaved.
“So, the pirate, Nathaniel Blackborne, finally arrives on my doorstop again,” Fiddler said.
“Sounds like he knew you were coming,” Marissa said under her breath to Nathaniel.
“You would be surprised by what I know, daughter of Nicholas,” Fiddler said.
Now, he had her undivided attention. Undoubtedly, she thought, he must have a vast network of spies working for him within his organization. Having such an establishment in Corsica, along with his affiliation with the notorious Captain Nathaniel Blackborne, obviously meant he was a criminal.
“How do you know who I am?” she asked.
“In time, Princess, in time…”
“Well if you know who I am, then you must know of my quest,” she said.
“I do.” Fiddler lit a stick of incense on a short table within arms reach. “Tell me, Marissa of the Bard, have you found the Wielder yet?”
Nathaniel looked at her. Marissa stammered for the answer.
The Fiddler observed her lightly. “Interesting,” he said as he stood to his feet. Fiddler walked over to them with such effortless grace that it seemed he floated across the carpet. He walked right up to Marissa and looked her in the face. “I see a mystery swirling in your eyes.” His gaze nearly hypnotized her.
“Look, Fiddler, we really need to get some—”
The Fiddler waved an open hand to stop Nathaniel’s words in mid-sentence. “Please forgive Captain Blackborne’s atrocious manners, Princess. I fear life aboard a pirate ship may have forever ruined him.”
Marissa smiled big for Fiddler, ignoring Nathaniel’s wounded pride gleefully. Marissa decided right then that she liked this Fiddler fellow already.
“Fiddler, we really need to get some weapons and get out of here in a hurry. There’s a welcoming committee already waiting for me out there.” Nathaniel said.
“That should have been your first expectation, Nathaniel. This is Corsica after all.”
Nathaniel looked at Marissa. “Captain Blackborne has come into my employ,” she said. “I’m the reason he’s come to Corsica.”
Fiddler looked at Nathaniel and then Marissa as though he didn’t believe a word of it. “Really?” he said. “Good help is so hard to find these days, as they say.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Fiddler, the weapons please?”
“Of course, Nathaniel. You and the princess may outfit with anything you find. Percival will also accompany you with enough weapons to supply those in your company. In fact, Percival, I would like you to personally escort the princess to her father in the Bard country.”
“You would?” Percival asked.
“Of course my giant friend. Her mission is of the utmost importance to our realm. She can use all of the help she can get.”
“Your offer is greatly appreciated,” Marissa said. She had earlier found Percival imposing. But if this mountain of a man were on their side, that imposing effect might work to their advantage, particularly as they tried to leave with bounty hunters waiting for them.
Nathaniel moved about the room to the display cases in search of pistols and cutlasses—his favorites. “We’d better get going, Princess.”
“Of course.” Marissa joined him perusing the cash of weapons in the room for just the right selections. She quickly located a set of fighting knives similar to those she had lost.