by Max Irons
“Get out of here,” yelled one of the patrons from across the room. He thrust a half-empty tankard in Galeron’s direction. “You already ruined my evening at Nelek’s. Now I’m stuck in this moldy house.”
Galeron turned his gaze on the full-bearded man. The fool was frustrated that Galeron had disturbed his drinking while Lonni was held somewhere. A sharp pain built in his chest, and he strode over to the man, muscles taut.
“Galeron, leave him alone,” said Iven, though his voice carried more exasperation than warning.
“Who do you think you are, anyway?” demanded the bearded man. “What right have you—”
Galeron’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, and he went down hard with a sickening smack. The men around him got up and stepped back, wilting under his glare. It was time for answers.
“Your night of drinking means nothing,” Galeron growled to the room at large. “This fool’s lucky I used my fist instead of a blade. Now he’ll only have to worry about drinking through broken teeth instead of an open neck.”
Iven shifted uncomfortably and leaned on his bow.
“Understand this,” Galeron said. “I want Rikard or someone who knows him. My anger lies with him. He took someone under my protection, and I won’t stop until I have her back.” He swept the tables with his gaze. “I want answers, and you want teeth. Talk!”
One man at another table snorted. “There are a lot more of us than you.”
Galeron’s eye twitched. They didn’t have time for this. Keeping a lid on his rage, he drew his sword and held it loosely in one hand. “Half of you are drunk, I’ve got the armor, and I don’t see any of you with a blade longer than a bread knife. If you want to drink again, don’t try me.”
The room fell silent, and Galeron kept up his glare. He couldn’t break the silence now. Someone else would have to do it. A few patrons squirmed in their benches, but no one spoke. Threats would only get a man so far. Shout them too much and they lost effectiveness. Heartbeats passed, but no one volunteered information.
“All right,” slurred a patron from the far back.
“You’re going to give this scum what he wants?” asked another.
“I came here for drink, not fights,” said the first. “Don’t know—” A hiccup interrupted his speech. “Don’t know where Rikard goes, but he’s—” Another hiccup. “A friend at Cat’s Paw. Has a favorite girl there and everything. Name’s Evander.”
Galeron nodded and sheathed his sword. “That wasn’t so hard.” He walked to the tavern door and opened it but stopped in the frame. “If you’re lying, I’ll be back, and I’ll get the truth out of you.”
He and Iven left the tavern and moved into the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Cat’s Paw sat at the edge of a clean section of the burg. Piles of debris blocked entrance to the next few streets, and the horrific stench of an open sewer and burning flesh permeated the air. Galeron kept his mouth clamped shut as they approached the three-floored building, trying to breathe as little as possible. Iven coughed a couple of times as they drew close to the door.
“Been here before?” asked Galeron through clenched teeth.
“In my wilder days,” Iven said. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
A single lantern hung over the door illuminated the Cat’s Paw’s sign. Light flickered through frosted glass windows as giggling and other noises drifted out. Galeron pulled up the hood of his cloak, and a hand drifted to the hilt of his sword.
“Are we sure that’s the best way?” asked Iven. “These are courtesans, not sell-swords.”
Galeron scowled. “And the difference is?”
“They probably won’t try to kill us,” Iven said.
“I don’t have the time to play games, and you don’t need to get distracted,” Galeron said. “Drawn weapons get the point across.”
Iven frowned. “Who was it that recently had his arms wrapped around a very curvy distraction?”
Galeron ignored him and kicked the door in. Wood splintered, and the door slammed against the wall with a loud crash. He strode through, drawing his blade. Women screamed, and flashes of skimpy dresses and exposed flesh rushed in all different directions. A few male patrons rose at Galeron’s entrance, but they immediately shrank back as he prowled through the dimly lit room.
“Where is Evander?” he growled.
A dark-haired woman with enough clothes to be decent bustled out of an adjoining room. “May we help you?”
“Evander,” Galeron repeated. “Where is he?”
The woman blinked, her eyes roving from Galeron’s drawn sword and dark armor to Iven lurking behind him. “If it isn’t the youngest Porter.”
Iven sighed. “Hello, Evangeline.”
“Almost four years you’ve been gone,” Evangeline said. “I thought for sure you’d have gotten over her before now.”
Iven stared at the ground, pointedly not meeting her eyes. “It was…”
“Oh, it was something, all right,” she said, cocking her hips to one side. “You almost stole away my best girl.”
Iven bit the inside of his mouth. “I’d heard you’d gone somewhere else.”
Galeron, part of his anger giving way to confusion, looked between Iven and the woman called Evangeline. “What’s going on?”
“And who’s this you’ve brought?” asked Evangeline. “He’s not much to look at, but the muscles…the muscles are quite appealing.”
“This is Galeron, and we’re not here for that,” Iven said. “You might have heard we’re looking for Evander. Rumor has it he’s got a girl he likes here.”
Evangeline’s eyebrows shot up. “You hear interesting things. What if you’re right?”
“Then he’s mine,” Galeron said.
Iven thumped him on the back. “We want to talk with him. He knows a man named Rikard. It’s him Galeron has a problem with.”
“Suppose, Iven, dear, that Evander is here,” Evangeline said. “If that were so, and I’m not saying it is, why should I go get him?”
That was as good an admission as he was going to get. Galeron stalked toward the doorway. A three-floored building would take some time to search, but he’d pull up the floorboards if necessary.
“That,” Iven said. “Galeron’s going to plow through the Cat’s Paw with or without your help. He’s a bit on the rough side, and I wouldn’t recommend challenging him to a fight. If you want to save yourself some property damage and a lot of cleaning, perhaps you should just take us to him.”
“Very well,” Evangeline said.
Galeron stopped in the doorway and allowed her to pass. Finally, they were going to get some answers.
Evangeline led them up a set of stairs to the second floor, down a corridor and passing several rooms curtained off with passionate moans emerging from a few of them. She stopped in front of one curtained room and walked inside, gesturing for Galeron and Iven to wait in the hall. Iven fidgeted constantly, his eyes a bit wider than usual.
Galeron frowned. What was wrong with him? Iven had said he used to frequent this place, but what made him act so…nervous? Grumbling voices came from inside the room, and a few moments later, the curtain whipped back. A tall Rayan stood in a tunic and breeches, hastily fastening his belt. On the straw pallet in the corner sat a gorgeous black-haired woman in nothing but a nightgown. Her hazel eyes swept over Galeron and fixated behind him on Iven.
Evangeline backed away and walked down the corridor the way they’d come. “The room to the right is also open if you need a private chat.”
Galeron’s gaze met Evander’s, and his eyes narrowed to squints. “You’re a hard man to find.”
Evander swallowed. “What do you want?”
Galeron’s grip tightened on his sword hilt. “I—”
“Iven Porter, how dare you come back here,” shrieked the woman.
Galeron blinked. Evander, too, looked confused. The woman got to her feet and strode out of the room.
“Th
at’s why I didn’t want to come,” Iven said. “A story for another time.”
“I want Rikard,” Galeron said. “Where is he?”
Evander’s face folded into a glare. “What’s he to you?”
“He took a friend of mine,” he growled. “I’m getting her back.”
Evander snorted. “You’re mad if you think I’m going to give him up. He’s promised me part of the cut after the job’s done.”
Galeron’s guts bubbled, and he took a step forward. “You’ll want to rethink that.”
“What are you going to do if I refuse? Kill me? That will get you nothing.”
Galeron sneered at him. “I’ll feel better.”
“You think that walking in here in black armor will make me spill my guts?” Evander rolled his eyes. “You’ve been listening to too many bards’ tales.”
I hate bards. Galeron sprang forward and cracked Evander over the skull before he could move. The man went down in a heap, and Galeron swung his sword at the frosted glass window. It shattered, and Galeron shoved the dazed Evander headfirst at the opening.
“Got anything else to say?” asked Galeron.
Evander squirmed and flailed, but Galeron shoved him further forward until half his body hung out the window.
“Keep struggling, and I’ll push you out,” Galeron said.
“That fall won’t kill me,” Evander snorted. “Where did you learn—”
Galeron thrust him out and into open air. Evander screamed and hit the cobbled streets with a sickening crack. Galeron turned around and walked outside, Iven right behind him.
“Was that really necessary?” asked Iven.
“Figured he should know the weight of the situation,” Galeron said.
Iven choked down a laugh. “Was that a joke?”
Galeron shoved open the Cat’s Paw’s main door and strode over to the heap of moaning flesh that was Evander. A gash on his forehead streamed a trail of blood, and he cradled an arm close to his chest.
“At least you didn’t break his jaw,” said Iven.
Galeron knelt next to Evander, prodding his arm with one finger. Evander gave a shriek.
“Broken,” Galeron said. “No surprises there. Now where is Rikard?”
“I’m not telling,” moaned Evander.
“You just can’t find loyal folks like this anymore,” Iven said.
“Why protect him?” asked Galeron. “Wherever Rikard is, he isn’t enduring what you’re about to.” Galeron leaned in closer. “You know exactly where we are. No city watch, no one who cares. No one to save you.”
Evander snorted. “You think you scare me?”
“I think,” Galeron said as he seized his broken limb, “that I can make you lose this arm.” He twisted a little, bones grinding under his grip, and Evander screamed.
“Is he really worth it?” asked Iven.
His breath came thick and fast, and sweat mixed with the blood from his cut. Evander’s gaze darted between Iven and Galeron.
“You don’t know what the captain would do to me,” he said.
“You should be worried about what I’m going to do,” Galeron snarled, and he twisted the break further.
Evander’s screams brought the door of the Cat’s Paw bursting open, but Galeron drove Evangeline back inside with an icy stare.
“If Rikard’s a former legionary, he flogs for disobedience,” Iven said. “Right? Abandoning your appointed duty is, what, thirty lashes plus an extra?”
Evander nodded. “I’ve seen him do it. No one in the troop would cross him after the first time.”
“Troop?” asked Galeron. That was interesting, but it made sense, after a fashion. “How many of you?”
His eyes widened. “I shouldn’t have—”
Galeron cut him off with another wrench. He was going to talk, even if he had to rip both arms off to drag it out.
“At least tell him that.” Iven sat down on Evander’s other side. “I’m sure anyone else would say the same thing. I mean, Rikard and his troop must be fairly well known.”
Evander cast a glance at Galeron, who narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth. “Ten, including me and Rikard, there’s ten of us.”
Iven nodded. “See, was that so hard?”
“All former legion?” asked Galeron.
Evander bobbed his head up and down. “Anyone could tell you that.”
Good. He was talking. The dam had broken, but now to get the real information. Thankfully, Iven was playing a fairly good counterbalance. This might not take as long as he’d thought, or require as many broken bones.
“If you’ve got a job, why are you here?” asked Galeron.
“I thought that was obvious,” Evander said.
Galeron jerked at the broken arm again, and Evander convulsed in pain. “I’m running out of patience.”
“I don’t know how long I can keep him tame,” Iven said. “I work with him, but, as you can probably tell, he’s not very civilized. Come now, we aren’t asking you to betray Rikard, just why he let you come here.”
“Rikard didn’t think one woman needed ten guards,” Evander moaned. “He let some of us go out for a while.”
Keeps morale up and the men loyal. Rikard was shaping into a knowledgeable foe. It wouldn’t save him, in the end.
“Now we know why he wasn’t in his favorite drinking holes,” Iven said.
“But it doesn’t help us find Lonni,” Galeron said, glaring down at Evander.
“She’s got all the curves of a tree branch,” Evander snorted. “Why’re you—”
The man was stalling. Again. A red film coated his vision, and Galeron tasted something flat and metallic on his tongue. He twisted Evander’s broken arm, ignoring the screams, and hauled him to his feet, one hand around his throat.
“Do you know how many bones I can break?” he snarled, his own voice ripping at his throat. “You’ve got a lot to crack.”
Evander’s eyes had gone distant, and Galeron shook him.
“He takes care of us,” he wheezed.
“Where’s your captain now?” asked Galeron. “It’s just you and me. If you don’t give me what I want to know, I’ll beat you until Iven gets tired.”
“I’ve just had coffee,” said Iven. “I’ll be fine for hours.”
Evander smiled through Galeron’s grip. “You haven’t got that kind of time. She’s dead by sunrise. King’s orders.”
Galeron released his throat, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him towards the Cat’s Paw. “Let’s try flying again. Third floor. Feet first.”
“You’ll break my legs,” Evander said.
“And?”
“I’ve heard fall fractures never heal properly,” Iven called. “Good luck as a cripple. I’ll drop by some time and toss a coin in your beggar’s cup.”
Galeron reached for the door. “Flap your arms. It helps.”
“No. No, I’ll…I’ll tell you.”
He stopped and turned. “Let’s hear it, then.”
Evander shuddered and glanced from Galeron to Iven. “If I do you’ll let me go?”
Iven nodded. “Did you think we’re going to drag you along when we go see your captain?”
“We…we’re holed up in a tavern in one of the plague districts,” Evander said.
“Which one?”
He swallowed. “The Big Barrel.”
Finally. They knew where Lonni was.
Iven laughed. “The Big Barrel. Probably a good thing it’s blocked off from the rest of the city with a name like that.”
“You know where it is?” asked Galeron.
“Not too far from here,” Iven said.
Galeron turned back to Evander, releasing his grip. “If you’re lying, I’ll break the other one.”
“The other wha—”
Galeron’s boot slammed into the instep of his knee with a bone-splitting snap. Evander collapsed on the ground, shrieking and rolling in a puddle of swears and curses. Galeron rolled his eyes and walked away. Se
rved the fool right for taking up so much of his time.
“Was that really necessary?” asked Iven as they headed away from the Cat’s Paw.
Galeron shrugged. “He could still run to warn Rikard with a broken arm. I’d like to see him run on that.”
Iven shuddered. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The plague-ridden district smelled like an open sewer in the middle of summer. Galeron’s stomach threatened to purge itself again, but he clamped his jaw shut and kept his eyes on Iven’s back as they maneuvered through the deserted streets. Most of the buildings had been sealed with planks over the doors and windows. Occasionally, they’d run across smoldering ruins or crumbling heaps of seared bodies, outlined by the silver glow of the half moon.
“Lovely place to hide, isn’t it?” asked Iven.
Galeron grunted, not trusting himself to open his mouth. How did Iven stand it? They rounded a street corner, and Iven slowed down as they ventured down the lane. Faint lights glowed in a two-floored building at the next crossroads.
“Found it,” Iven said. “What other building would be lit and lively here?”
Galeron nodded. He inhaled sharply and drew his sword as they approached. Iven pulled a bowstring from under his hat and strung his weapon. Galeron’s heart beat faster. What was he going to find? Was Lonni still alive? What if all Kolvein’s talk had just been to keep him occupied, and Lonni had been dead for hours?
Then he’d have failed in his duty. Failed to keep his promise to Rand.
Iven elbowed him in the ribs. “What’s our plan? There’s at least nine of them in there. Eight if one hangs back to guard Lonni.”
Galeron’s left hand twitched involuntarily. He’d never replaced the shield he lost, and he missed it now more than ever. They stopped across the street from the Big Barrel, and Galeron closed his eyes.
He couldn’t see the tavern’s layout with frosted glass in the window panes, but most places like this had a similar design. Trestle tables and benches interspersed on the main floor, likely a storeroom in back for the barrels of drink, and mostly sleeping quarters on the top floor.