by CP Bialois
“She’s studying her magic. I made her stay since she forgot to do so last night.” Her eyes went to the large orb in his hand and widened at its sight. “That’s a beautiful pearl. May I see it?”
When he first saw her expression at seeing the orb, Mern’s grip tightened into a protective claw before realizing he had nothing to fear. Halflings seldom asked graciously for any object if they intended to steal it, besides it was protected against anyone else wishing to touch it without the power to use it. He smiled, knowing it was safe. “I use this for a fortune telling act I’m working on, besides it’s one of a kind. I don’t allow anyone else to touch it.” When the Halfling’s face fell somewhat he chuckled, “But if you come closer, I will allow you to see the wonders inside.”
Janessa’s face brightened and she stepped forward, gazing into the orb. Her original mistrust of the mage was forgotten as she never saw anything as beautiful as the clouds and small stars floating below the glass surface. After a few moments he placed a cloth over the orb, much to the Halfling’s disappointment. “That’s enough for now, once I’m settled in Hope you can come by to see it again. Have we a deal?”
Janessa nodded with a smile. “We already have a place picked out for you; it’s next to where we’re staying.”
Mern smiled, living next to, or with, a Halfling was a dubious proposition, but under the circumstances it was ideal. “Excellent. I have everything packed.” He picked up two small cases and placed them under his left arm before taking hold of a trunk by one end in his right. Janessa swore she didn’t see him put the orb into a pocket or case but it was still gone. “If you could take that small pack and help with this.”
Janessa settled the pack onto her shoulders while helping with the trunk using both hands. She wondered if he packed rocks to make it so heavy. At least they only needed to carry the items to a wagon just a few yards away that Mern thought ahead to rent from a fellow proprietor. He had planned on sending everything ahead so he could walk to Hope with the young mage, but now he felt it best for them both to ride the wagon as passengers. The idea thrilled Janessa since she had only been able to ride in the back of wagons up to then. Pleased he was winning over the one he felt was his greatest threat, Mern smiled and laughed as he listened to her retelling of the pit fights and their adventures during the night. Janessa laughed as well at some of the memories, she was finally able to make a tenuous peace with what she had to do. But for the life of her, Janessa couldn’t remember anything to laugh at; she assumed the mage’s good nature was causing her to do so.
Mern settled into the driver’s seat, smiling at Janessa as she climbed into the seat next to him. “Easy now, you’d think this was the first time you’ve ever ridden.” He knew the truth by the way her eyes flashed at the sight of the wagon. “It’s not a long walk, but my things are heavy for these old bones. I hope you don’t mind?” It amazed him at how easy it was at times. As he spoke to Janessa he handed several pieces of silver to the wagon’s owner with an additional gold piece for the man to remain and not make a spectacle. Mern was pleased to see the man took the hint and the money with no questions asked.
“Oh I don’t mind. I had an uncle like that once. He could hardly move about being only a hundred and fifty years old.” Janessa’s mood dimmed some at the memory; it was more of a story told to her when she was young from another traveling Halfling. She supposed it was true; there was nothing to prove otherwise. Janessa shrugged, it wasn’t anyone she knew. “Are you going to the pit fights later today?”
Mern watched her with amusement; Halflings were always so active and full of energy. Shaking his head he answered, “No, I’m afraid not. I have business to attend to this evening. But I do hope you enjoy yourself.” The two continued talking until reaching the gates of Hope.
All the while Janessa couldn’t help wondering what it was about the old man that bothered her. She hated feelings like those, she preferred knowing what caused it instead of her intuition. She refused to acknowledge her intuition kept her from harm on more than a few occasions.
Janessa preferred to blame it on Viola and, in jest, would accuse her friend of casting a spell on her since Halflings were well known to follow their instincts. She knew she was the exception to the rule, often displaying the traits she learned from her human foster parents. Careful people, they never did anything outlandish or remotely dangerous. Going to the market proved to be the most exciting thing in their lives. As a result Janessa was forced to walk the line between what she‘d been taught was right and what her instincts told her was the right thing to do.
That was the problem she was having with her feelings towards Mern. Her Halfling blood was telling her not to trust the old mage, to run and flee from him as fast as she could. But her human family taught her to be polite, to not judge someone unless they deserved it. Thus far, Mern had always shown her respect and been kind to her. What to do? The tug of war inside her raged even as Sherriff Tavers stopped them at the entrance to Hope.
Sherriff Tavers saw her long before stopping the wagon with a raised hand. With an eye on Hope’s most notorious thief, Tavers began his usual line of questioning of Mern. “What brings you to Hope, stranger?” Janessa would’ve spoken on behalf of her new friend but Tavers raised a hand silencing her as soon as her mouth opened. “I know your business, Janessa.”
Mern’s face hid his chuckle by appearing friendly, if a bit concerned. “I’m a merchant in fine antiquities and rare objects, formerly of Renard’s Company. I’m looking for a place to stay while I open my new business. My friend here has offered to show me around your fine city.“
Sherriff Tavers listened to the old man as he studied every line on his face and hair on the old man’s head. Tavers was careful to note the man’s eyes shone bright, like a fierce fire not of their world burned within them. They held an intelligence in them he found unnerving and uncomfortable. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve let someone pass by then but there was something more he felt compelled to know. “You bringing anything with you? Weapons, potions, anything dangerous?”
To Tavers surprise the old man burst into laughter. “No, sorry my boy, but I don’t carry anything like that with me.” Mern noticed the man glance at his few carry on items in the back of the wagon and motioned towards them. “Nothing more than my personal affects, my merchandise will be coming once I’ve found a suitable shop. You may search them if you like, I have nothing to hide.”
Tavers’ eyes went from the old man’s belongings to him. Realizing he hadn’t been as covert as he thought, the Sherriff smiled nonetheless. “No need for that, I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
Mern smiled at the implied meaning, he didn’t plan to stay long, just until he finished his appointed task. “Thank you Sherriff, I’m sure I will.” With a quick snap of the reins, the wagon began moving as the horses tried to get away from the hurtful slap to their backs.
Janessa watched the exchange in annoyance. Why did the Sherriff always treat her like that? He never caught her doing anything wrong, mischievous actions, yes, but that was all. Determined to have the final word, she turned in her seat and shouted back at the Sherriff, “Have a good day Sherriff! Don‘t worry about me, I’ll stay out of trouble!” Happy with herself, Janessa sat back down smiling. “He’s always like that.”
As they continued along the narrow roads Mern smiled, thinking, I wonder why. He remained busy watching the buildings as they passed them, the history of the city was written on every wall.
Chapter 8
Like most cities, Hope had several inns and bars scattered within their limits. Of those the Horse’s Head was on the lower rung, if the standards of society were to be the judge. To his credit, old man Winston worked tirelessly to make the Horse’s Head the most comfortable and welcoming establishment in the city. While it was shunned by the elite in society, its income was one of the highest in the city. Never one to allow his pride to overwhelm his common sense, Winston took it all in stride. Even going so far as to reco
mmend other establishments for their food, drink, or other niceties. The people weren’t fooled and often stayed for the tight, comfortable confines that first caught their eye. Understanding his guests’ opinion of him, Winston made a point to greet as many patrons as possible, often regaling them with tales of his adventures as a Marshall during his younger days. Many nights Janessa curled up near the fireplace in the common room listening to his tales. She heard them so often that she could retell them word for word, although she lacked Winston’s flair for the dramatic.
All of that the Halfling explained to Mern as they approached the inn, a little more than a stone’s throw from the city gates. Mern listened to her stories picking out bits and pieces he thought were relevant and could be used at a later date if needed. Once they came to a stop, he handed a silver piece to one of the stable hands waiting for travelers. “Feed and water please, that’s a good boy.” Mern turned to another, handing him a silver piece. “Mind giving me a hand with my trunk? Thank you my boy.”
Janessa watched with interest at how the old man orchestrated the movements of Winston’s stable boys with ease, demonstrating to her that he was a man accustomed to travel. As if everything were rehearsed, the first stable hand drove off towards the Inn’s stables moments after the last of Mern’s belongings were taken inside, leaving Janessa shaking her head. No matter how hard she tried, she could never make the simplest schedule work.
Mern sensed her thoughts. Halflings weren‘t known for their organizational skills, and patted her on the shoulder as a grandfather would’ve done, his warm smile was full of the same qualities. “It comes from years of experience my dear.” He leaned down close to her and whispered with a wink, “Unless I’m mistaken, you won more than enough to do some traveling of your own. If you need any advice, don’t hesitate to ask. Alright?”
Janessa smiled at his offer and nodded but she wondered how he knew about their winnings. It took her a moment before she remembered he gave them the hint about Berek.
Mern couldn’t help but smile, he knew the thoughts winding through his little friend’s mind but instead of feeling arrogant or even ashamed, he enjoyed himself. It’d been so long since he last dealt with someone who was an open book with little, if anything, to hide. “Don’t worry child, you weren‘t the only ones that won a large sum on Berek’s efforts. Come; let’s enjoy the hospitality the Horse’s Head has to offer.” Mern guided her towards the entrance with his hand. He heard rumors and stories about the inn long before Janessa told him about it. It was a place that he longed to visit.
The Horse’s Head never disappointed any patron, including an old mage whose true age was known only to himself. As soon as he opened the large heavy oak door the smell of roast beef, potatoes, and mead surged into the mage’s senses. For a moment he closed his eyes, inhaling as deeply as he could, then repeated it three more times. He closed the door behind them with his head swimming from the rich scents in the air. Though pleased at how every smell wove together with the smell of cedar logs in the fireplace, Mern forced himself to regain his senses and take in as much as he could about his surroundings. As its reputation claimed, the common room was smaller in size than most, but the golden color of the finished wood covering the walls reacted with the fire giving the room a golden sheen. Though light came in through the common room’s several windows the sunlight failed to match the fireplace and burning candles sitting on each table for light. He counted six medium sized tables, as well as a series of benches sitting about eight feet apart along the walls. In the center of the wall opposite from the door was a spiral staircase cut from a single oak tree and wide enough for two people to climb shoulder to shoulder. To the staircase’s left was a large doorway Mern assumed led to the kitchen and a large bar where a rotund older man stood talking, laughing, and cleaning up after his patrons. In general, two barmaids would be working but that early in the day they weren’t needed. Old man Winston didn’t get where he was by not being frugal.
Mern noticed Janessa tugging on his long gray sleeve and pointing at the old man behind the bar. “That’s Winston; he’s really nice so he’ll probably give you a room.”
Mern forced his attention back to the Halfling after hearing her say he’d probably be given a room. He swore he’d been told they already acquired a room for him the day before. He dismissed it as unimportant, even one as intelligent as he wasn‘t immune to tricks of the mind.
“Winston, this is a friend of ours and we were wondering if you could give him a room?” Janessa’s question caused Mern’s heart to become lodged in his throat; he hadn’t expected to be introduced in such a rude manner. To his surprise, the old man Janessa called Winston smiled and extended his hand.
“Aye, any friend of Janessa is a friend of mine.” As Winston reached out his hand Mern could make out the scars from countless brawls on his face and hands. Despite the cheerfulness of the innkeeper’s face, Mern was aware the man had seen much during his life. “We have one room left, its one silver piece a week or two copper per day. That don’t include meals.”
Mern returned the man’s jovial smile, the man’s past was of little importance at the moment as Mern took the offered hand in his own. “I must say sir, that the reputation of your inn is well deserved indeed.”
The compliment caused the innkeeper’s face to flush with gratitude. “Aye, we do our best,” his smile remained warm and friendly as he finished, “but it’ll still cost ye another silver piece for regular meals, anything extra will cost ye.”
For the first time in years Mern broke into genuine laughter but it wasn’t one of mirth. At least Mern didn’t think so. He felt foolish to have sounded like so many others who wanted something free. “That’s quite alright and very fair.” Mern reached into his pocket and handed over four silver pieces. “There, I think two weeks should be enough to get us started, don’t you think?”
Winston took the silver without twitching a muscle in his face then turned to the stable boy carrying his new guests’ chest. “Take it to the last room on the left Stang, third floor.” Without hesitation, the young man nodded and began hefting the chest up the staircase. With the task underway the innkeeper turned back to Mern, “If there’s anything else ye need, just ask.”
Mern nodded, thanking the man before turning to follow Stang to his room. He noted with interest, that the Halfling seemed to forget about him when she chased after the boy. Mern remembered what it was like to be young, and he wouldn’t go through that again for anything in the world.
The climb to the third floor didn’t take more than a minute, or so it seemed to Janessa. She never seemed to be able to spend more than that around Stang, either he was always in a rush or she moved too slow to catch him. Whatever the reason, he never seemed to notice her, pushing Janessa closer to the point of strutting around naked in front of him. Janessa tried to strike up a conversation with Stang during the climb to Mern’s room, but without any luck. She sat on Mern’s bed trying to figure out her next step. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with men. I mean, he’s younger than me, but there’s not another woman in Hope that can compare.”
Mern smiled, though a voice deep within him screamed for him to do away with the prattling Halfling, he refused to do so. The fact she was the young mage’s best friend was a valuable commodity he refused to waste. But he knew the real reason, despite her incessant talking about things he cared little or nothing about, she was almost like a granddaughter. He didn’t quite think of it in those terms though, he liked her naïve innocence. Both she and Viola shared that trait, though for the life of him he couldn’t understand how both the Halfling and mage shared that and wisdom beyond their years. Oh well, it mattered little, soon part of his plan would be complete and then he’d deal will the little thief. Unless of course he could convince her to leave, but that seemed unlikely as they were forming a bond. Mern enjoyed the challenge.
For now he wished to be alone with his thoughts, but he couldn’t risk offending the Halfling. He s
at next to her, patting her back. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you, perhaps he already has a sweetheart.”
Janessa’s eyes widened, “I never thought about that. But he’s much too young for that! He’s only eighteen.”
Mern fought back a smile, “But wouldn’t he be too young for you then?”
Janessa wrinkled her nose and shook her head, “Of course not. I look younger than him.”
“Ah, I see. My apologies, I didn’t think it through.” Young love, he mused, what a pain in the ass it was.
“Of course, if there is another woman that would explain a lot.” Janessa’s face changed from one in thought to one of action. “I got it!” She leapt off the bed and ran for the door. “Wait ‘till I tell Viola!” In her haste Janessa almost forgot about Mern, she turned back to face him with an embarrassed look on her face.
Knowing what was coming Mern waved her off with a smile. “Go on, indulge yourself. Oh, Could you tell Viola I’d like to see her in about an hour for her studies?”
Janessa smiled, “Sure thing, she’s probably done with her books by now.” Without another word the door closed behind the Halfling leaving the old man alone with his thoughts.
Through magical means, not entirely his own, Mern managed to outlive even the longest lived Elves by nearly fifty years while keeping his own faculties. Never one to trust his fate to the abilities of others, it took him some time to trust in a spell he came across four hundred years earlier. The mage was about Viola’s age and Mern was about sixty then, maybe a little younger. He couldn’t remember his own age after all those years.
Try as he might, Mern couldn’t remember the mage’s name, but the spell the young man created was a masterpiece. Mern heard of the young man through several of his peers as a mage with a reputation as a scholar with limited ability. It‘d been the first moment Mern ever knew of where a mage with limited power had developed such a powerful and useful spell.