A Sellsword's Wrath

by Jacob Peppers

  During this speech, Aaron and Adina met eyes, and Aaron felt himself growing more and more frustrated. The man didn’t sound in imminent danger, that was for sure. Still, it was hard to tell with the Parnen. “It’s Nathan, sir,” the barman said, “they’s some folks here would like a word.”

  “Ah, dear, Nathan, your noble voice does wonders for the constitution,” the Parnen said, and it sounded to Aaron as if the man was out of breath, “and wonders are needed, I can assure you. Still, I’ve little words to spare just now, I’m afraid. Which, I assure you, is for the best. Words are dangerous things, after all, weapons in the hands of a man skilled with them.”

  Aaron considered that, trying to puzzle out what in the Pit the man was trying to say. Weapons, he’d said, and dangerous. The Parnen talked in circles, so there was no easy way to understand his meaning. Still, those two words seemed ominous enough to him, and it wouldn’t be the first time the captain had warned him of danger in a particularly round about and—truth be told, infuriating—fashion. That, taken with the fact that the Parnen sounded not only out of breath, but strained somehow, decided him.

  He motioned for the others to step back, and he drew his sword. Then, without a word, he pivoted and slammed his foot into the door jam. There was a sharp crack and the door swung open and into the room. Aaron rushed in behind it, scanning the room for soldiers until his eyes alighted on a figure on the bed. Not one, figure though, but four.

  The Parnen captain lay in the bed shirtless, the bed’s covers draped over his lower half. Three nude women lay around him, even now screaming and scrambling to cover themselves. Aaron took in the scene and let his sword drop to his side. “Son of a bitch.” Three women and all of them pretty enough. No wonder the man sounded out of breath.

  “It must just be my day,” Adina said from beside him in a sardonic voice, “for catching half-naked men in bed.”

  “Perhaps not, fair lady,” the Parnen said from his place on the bed, and if he was uncomfortable at the sudden appearance of the three, he did not show it. “After all, it may yet be your day, but your day for catching half-naked men? No, I think not, for half-naked is half-clothed, and I am neither.”

  “Which means—” Adina said.

  “I find clothes so binding,” Leomin said, “the wrappings and trappings with which we entrap and … enwrap? Yes, and enwrap ourselves. Hiding our shame, we call it, yet a strange thing it is that such shame, when coupled with another’s, can lead to some of the most joyous and entertaining diversions of which men and women are capable. Don’t you think?”

  Aaron rubbed at his temple, glancing at the three women, “Out. Now.” To his surprise and more than a little consternation, the three women glanced to Leomin first, as if asking for his permission or, possibly, to see if he would protect them. Apparently, a man busting into their room holding a sword wasn’t enough to put them off. But, then, Leomin and his inane chatter hadn’t been enough to send them running either—Aaron was beginning to think he really didn’t understand people.

  “Ah, ladies,” Leomin said, “it seems that we will have to continue our … conversation at another date. My friends here seem to be in a bit of a hurry.”

  “Friends?” One of the women asked in a sultry voice that made Aaron decide that their screams and hurry to cover themselves when he and the others had come in had been nothing more than a show. The woman reached her hand beneath the covers, and Leomin’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure we can’t continue it now?” She asked, “I was so enjoying our … chat.”

  Leomin glanced at Aaron, a question in his eyes, but he saw Aaron’s frown and sighed. “Unfortunately, my beauty, I believe it best if you leave for now.”

  “My, but she’s beautiful,” another of the women said, glancing at Adina, “Wait, is she the one that you spoke of? The one you rescued?”

  Leomin opened his mouth to speak, but the third started talking before he could get a word in, “My, she must be! Just look at that hair. He sang your praises,” she said, glancing at Adina, “but even his serpent’s tongue didn’t do you justice.”

  Adina blushed at that, “Thank you.”

  “Wait a minute,” the first who’d spoken said, “if she’s the great beauty then that would make him…” she glanced at Aaron, her eyes going wide.

  “Gods be good, it’s the leper,” one of the others shouted and in a flurry of covers and clothes the women vanished through the doorway.

  “Thank you for showing us here,” Aaron said to the tavernkeeper through gritted teeth once the women were gone, “we’d like a moment or two alone with our friend here, if you don’t mind.”

  He watched in annoyance as the big man also glanced to Leomin, as if to see if it was alright. The Parnen gave the slightest nod, obviously uncomfortable, and Aaron watched as the innkeeper left, closing the door as best he could with a broken latch. He decided that people were really beginning to lose respect for a drawn blade.

  He glanced back at Leomin, and the Parnen must have seen something in his eyes because he cleared his throat loudly, refusing to meet Aaron’s gaze.

  “Beggar and leper then, is it?” Aaron asked.

  Leomin fidgeted with his hands and nodded sheepishly, “Well, it seemed to me that it would be wise to hide our identities lest someone discover us, since discovery of our identities would no doubt lead to untimely deaths.”

  Aaron bared his teeth, “And leper and beggar was the best you could come up with?” Leomin opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and shut it again. “What’s more,” Aaron continued, “you considered it important enough to give us false identities, but not so important, I notice, to keep you from inviting three women into your room.”

  “Ah, yes, that,” Leomin said, “well, to be fair I do not recall ever actually telling them they were invited. It was more of an understood, I think. Anyway, it wasn’t what it looked like I assure you, Mr. Envelar. I was using them, you understand, for information. A man might go so far as to say I was questioning them.”

  Aaron opened his mouth to speak, but Adina talked over him, “Don’t be overly concerned,” she said, acid in her tone that Aaron felt sure was directed at him more than the captain, “Aaron here has done some of his own questioning tonight.”

  Oh, well done, Co said, and Aaron wondered why he’d ever been happy to hear her speaking again. Besides, it wasn’t as if it had been the same—the woman had sought him out, not the other way around, and he’d only allowed himself to be led to her room so that he could control the situation.

  Still, judging by the look on the princess’s face, he decided that scolding Leomin for his foolishness with the women might wait for a better, more private time. “Anyway,” he said, “we thought you were in danger—we came rushing back here and busting in the door like fools.”

  Leomin nodded in agreement, then saw Aaron’s frown and held up his hands, “I, of course, appreciate the concern displayed—and it was quite marvelous, the way you kicked the door in. Very impressive to say the least. I only regret that you didn’t try the latch first.”

  Adina let out a stifled giggle beside Aaron, and the sellsword closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. “Do you mean to tell me that you were in here with three women, and you didn’t even think to latch the door?”

  “Ah,” Leomin said, “well, if I had, I’m not sure how their friend would have gotten in—she was apparently tied up for a moment but was on her way. I suppose,” he said, glancing at the room’s small window, “she could have climbed the wall but—”

  “Four,” Aaron said, “Gods man have you lost your damned mind?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. All I want to know is what have you discovered about Darrell? Is he still alive? Or were you too busy questioning these women here to ask?”

  “Ah, yes, well, I suspect he is alive, and do not worry on that score, I know exactly where he is.”

  “You do
?” Adina asked.

  “Oh yes,” Leomin said, “or, at least, I’m relatively certain of it.”

  “Well, where is he?” Aaron demanded, “Can we get to him?”

  Leomin made an uncertain motion with his hand, “well, perhaps, though it would require a lot of work, and if you’ll forgive me for saying so, I don’t see that it is completely necessary. Truth be told, I couldn’t tell you his precise location.”

  Aaron bit back a curse, barely. “Just how certain are you that you know where he is?”

  “Well, as sure, I suppose, as men can be of anything in these times,” Leomin said, shrugging, “I saw him, if it’s of any concern.”

  “You saw him?” Aaron said incredulous, “well, then of course you know where he is.”

  “Too true, too true,” Leomin agreed heartily, “only….” He paused, considering, “the last time I saw your friend, Darrell, he was getting on a ship.”

  “A ship?” Adina asked, surprised.

  “Wait a minute,” Aaron said, “why would he be getting on a ship? Damnit,” he hissed, “which ship?”

  “Ah, well, the Clandestine, of course,” Leomin said, a confused expression on his face as if he couldn’t understand why Aaron would ask such a silly question.

  “But the Clandestine’s your ship,” Adina said.

  Leomin nodded happily, “So it is, if, that is, a ship is anybody’s but its own. Of course,” his brow drew down in concentration, “I am not on it. Is it still mine, do you think, if I am no longer on it? Or does it belong to those who sail it now? That is a question that requires some thought. After all, if a man takes another man’s shoe and wears it, how long must he do so before it becomes his own? Or, perhaps, it’s the distance traveled that matters. I wonder…”

  “Enough,” Aaron said, cutting the man off. “Why would Darrell be on your ship?”

  Leomin gave him that confused look again, “Well, setting the consideration of whether or not it actually is my ship aside—”

  “That would be wise,” Aaron growled.

  “Then,” Leomin said, clearing his throat, “I would be tempted to suspect that your friend, Darrell, is on my ship because I put him on it.”

  “You put him on it?” Adina asked, “I don’t understand.”

  “Ah,” Leomin said, nodding, “I see. Forgive me, ‘put’ is an awkward word, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not as if I carried him on the ship and sat him down—that would be ridiculous. Sometimes, I think that the gods—in their wisdom—created language as a way of confounding those who tried to communicate with each other. It can be truly vexing to one such as I who strives always for a clarity as pristine as … glass. Wait, is glass pristine, would you say?”

  “Well,” Aaron said, “Since you strive for clarity, why don’t you tell me how you managed to put—” Leomin raised a finger at that, as if to object to the usage of the word, and Aaron raised his sword in turn. The Parnen let his hand drop, and Aaron continued, “How you managed to put Darrell on your ship, considering that he is locked up in Belgarin’s dungeon, no doubt chained and manacled to the fucking floor.”

  “Ah, right,” Leomin said, “well, to be fair there were no manacles—although he was chained,” he said quickly as if Aaron was preparing to stab him which wasn’t very far from the truth. “As for the chains, well, I found the key and took them off.”

  “You found the key? Where?”

  Leomin shrugged, “It was actually fairly simple. It was on the same key ring as the key to his cell,” he glanced at Adina, “not a particularly effective way of doing things, if you ask me. It would be better to have them separate and, in so doing, make it much more difficult to effect an escape.”

  Adina and Aaron shared a glance, “And, let me guess,” Aaron said, “you, what? Found the keys lying under the bed maybe? Or in that drawer there, perhaps?” He said, nodding to the small nightstand beside the bed.

  “Not in the night stand,” Leomin said, “Although, I’ll confess I didn’t think to look. As for the bed, would you believe, I didn’t even consider it. Wait,” he said, frowning, “surely, you don’t think—”

  “No,” Aaron said, “I don’t think. Where did you get the key ring?”

  “Ah, that,” Leomin said, nodding, “well, off of the fellow that runs the dungeons, of course. Nice enough man, smells a little rank, but then I suppose any man who spends his day in what amount to little more than caverns dealing with dirty, poorly fed prisoners all day has a right to smell a little … shall we say, off-putting. Still all and all not a bad man, and we really can’t hold his profession against him. He has a wife and two kids to provide for, after all, little Duncan and Sarah.”

  Aaron gritted his teeth in an effort to hold back a scream of frustration and Adina, apparently noticing his mood, took over. “But how did you get the keys from this … family man?”

  Leomin shrugged, “The way most people get most things—I asked for them. He was really quite accommodating after I spoke to him for a while. I suspect he gets lonely down in those dungeons with little to do but listen to people scream for help—prisoners really do carry on, let me tell you. Anyway, he invited me to dinner, in fact, though I’m afraid I won’t be making that considering the hurry you both seem to be in. Not that I would have anyway,” he said out of one side of his mouth, “He’s an alright enough fellow, as I said, but I just don’t think I could keep my appetite, what with the smell and all.”

  “Leomin,” Aaron said, “it’s been a long night, and I just want to warn you that I have stabbed men who got on my nerves a lot less than you. Now, simple yes or no, did you rescue Darrell?”

  Leomin opened his mouth to speak, and Aaron raised a cautionary finger, “Once more, to be clear. A simple yes or no.”

  The Parnen glanced at the finger then at the sword and nodded. “Yes.”

  Aaron released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “You put Darrell on your ship.”

  “Yes.”

  “And where, exactly, is that ship at now?”

  “Well, I couldn’t say for certain,” Leomin said, “depending on the winds and how rough the seas—”

  “Leomin,” Aaron said, “where is the ship heading?”

  “Ah, that,” the Parnen said, “well, I’ve sent the ship along with my crew—minus Balen and myself, of course—to Avarest.”

  “That….” Aaron said, surprised, “That was actually smart.”

  Leomin beamed, “Well, I thought so, thank you, Mr. Envelar.”

  “Speaking of Balen,” Leomin said, “where is my wandering first mate, anyway? The man talks too much for a certainty, a fan of many words when a few words would do, is Balen. Still, I’ve grown a certain attachment to him, and I would not see him harmed.”

  “He’s safe,” Aaron said, “Or as safe as anyone, the world being what it is. We’ve sent him and the others to Avarest.”

  “Ah,” Leomin said nodding, “that is well. I had suspected you would, you know. It’s the reason I sent Darrell. So. I suppose the question now must be—what is our next move? If move at all we make, that is. Sometimes, it is better to not move at all than to move incorrectly. Perhaps … if we were to take a night to think on it….”

  “Don’t even think about it, Leomin,” Aaron said, “I’m afraid those women will have to find someone else to occupy their time. As for what we do ….” He shrugged, glancing at Adina.

  The princess nodded, “I’ve been thinking about that. We can’t risk chartering another boat on the docks—if Belgarin doesn’t know that his secretary of the docks and several of his men are dead he will before long and, besides, the others will be able to do what good may be done in Avarest without us. We’d be no help there.”

  Aaron nodded, “What then?”

  “As I see it,” Adina said, “there are four great powers left in Telrear. Belgarin—the greatest of the four, of course—the armies of my sister Isabelle and my brother Ellemont, and Avarest’s own. While May and the others work on Avar
est, I think it would be wise for us to try to win one of the other armies to our favor.”

  “What of your own kingdom, Princess?” Leomin asked, “Might not your people fight for you?”

  A dark look came over Adina’s face, “Perhaps they would, if they knew I was still alive. The nobles of my kingdom betrayed me to Belgarin. They came for me in the night, and I only just managed to escape thanks to Gryle. The last I heard before I left the capital, I’d been killed in an unfortunate riding accident.” She frowned, her eyes dancing with anger, “Ridiculous, of course. I’ve been trained to sit a horse since I was a child—my father made sure of it, for all his children. But no, Leomin, to answer your question, I would not show up in the capital looking for an army—not with one already at my back, that is. Still,” her eyes narrowed, “the traitors will be dealt with in time.”

  “That leaves us only two options,” Aaron said, “and neither one that I much like from what I’ve heard of your remaining brother and sister.”

  Adina sighed, “Yes, Isabelle and Ellemont can be … difficult, each in their own way, but they are not fools—I believe that they can be made to see reason, if given a chance.”

  Aaron nodded, “So ... it seems to me that our options are cowardice or vanity.”

  Adina sighed, “Festa was not wrong, unfortunately, in his assessment of my siblings. Still, I believe that our best chances lie with Isabelle. She has the greater army of the two, and I believe she would be easier to bring to our cause in any case. She, I know, will want Belgarin to rule Telrear no more than I. In fact, Eladen was in talks with her about an alliance.”

  Aaron raised an eyebrow, “Until he was murdered.”

  Adina shook her head, “Believe me, Aaron, Isabelle is many things, but she would not side with Belgarin and would certainly not betray Eladen. She is the second oldest, you know, next to only Belgarin himself, and they have quarreled since I can remember. No, she would rather watch the world burn than to see it fall in the hands of Belgarin.”