by Jackson Lear
“… No.”
I brought him into the first inn I could find and tensed immediately. Five soldiers in red tunics and leather packs stood inside, their backs to me. The bushy innkeeper was handing out a set of keys.
I squeezed Beriss’ arm harder than before. We left without saying a word, catching the puzzled glance from two of the soldiers who, thankfully, didn’t say a word or cause a scene.
Soldiers. In Verseii. Miles from the nearest barracks and yet I managed to walk straight into five of them.
I glanced over my shoulder. One of them had stepped into the street, watching me with care. Even though I had a warrant for Beriss’ arrest in my pocket I wasn’t prepared to fight five of them to claim a paltry bounty.
My stomach remained in a tight knot. All five of them had belonged to the same larger group. Short swords by their waist. No other noticeable weapons. All in their twenties. Well groomed. Educated eyes. In all likelihood they were junior officers. Large backpacks with bulging leather cases here and there. Definitely not regular infantry, according to Greaser. Nor did they seem like army mages.
Beriss and I trundled along, him holding onto his boots, me with a steady grip around his arm.
Beriss broke the silence. “I know who robbed you.”
I remained quiet, glancing over my shoulder in case someone with a red tunic and short sword was following me.
“Will you let me go if I tell you?”
“Let’s see, am I willing to forgo a twenty mark reward for you so I can reclaim three marks of my own?”
“I could pay you.”
“With what? I already have your money.”
He checked his waist. “Hey!”
“Do you want to see what my left fist feels like? Because so far it hasn’t had a chance to join the party.”
“You can’t rob me!”
“Why not?”
“I’ll tell the city watch! They’ll withhold your bounty.”
“You’ll get it back when I hand you in.”
“Then I won’t tell you who robbed you.”
I grabbed his boots and threw them into the first alley we found.
“HEY!”
“At best guess there were three homeless people there. Only one was asleep. What are the odds that your boots are a lot nicer than theirs?”
“You … no! No! Give me my fucking boots back!”
“Can’t. They’re back there and we’re heading this way.”
“Fuck you! Those are mine!”
“Were. And if you try to run again there won’t be just a fist hitting your gut. You see your trousers? How nice they are? I’ll wager you three marks that a homeless guy will like them too.”
The rage within him erupted. “The rich woman! She’s the one who robbed you.”
I slowed, hating myself for it making sense. “How?”
“Because that’s her thing. She’s not rich at all. Some guy in my inn told me about her. He was hitting on her and she fed him the same story. She’s married. She’s in town for only a few days. Her husband snores so badly that she comes down to play cards, or bones, or whatever. He said she ended up winning.”
“That doesn’t mean she robbed me.”
“No? When the barman came over with our drinks, what did the woman do?”
“She waved him to her side and said, ‘Over here, love.’”
“Right. He stood right between you and her, set the drinks down, and she reached for her drink in the bundle without waiting for the barman to hand them out one at a time, yeah?”
I remained quiet.
“Did she happen to reach over your tankard and, I don’t know, drop something into your drink?”
We stopped. “You know this for sure?”
“Not completely, but her hand went back under the table the moment she claimed her drink. Did your beer taste funny at all?”
Fucking hell. I pulled us back to the alley and reclaimed Beriss’ boots before someone else got their grubby hands on them.
I knew we were getting close to Beriss’ inn when he leaned in towards one of the innkeepers and asked, “By the way, have you ever seen a rich woman here playing cards with a bunch of travelers? Blond hair. About thirty years old. Nice boobs. Likes to drink port.”
The woman at the door gave Beriss a long sigh. “Yeah. What has she done?”
“When was she last here?”
“I don’t know. A week ago. Why?”
“Because she told us she only just arrived.”
I growled at Beriss. Dragged him back into the street. Continued searching for his inn.
“I’m telling you, you can have half my money if you let me go. I’ll even help you find this woman of yours and she’ll probably have more than twenty marks on her. It will be more worth your while finding her than handing me in.”
“You’re an easy twenty.”
“But she might be an easy fifty. Think about it. And, thanks to her, you had to pay those other two guys at the table a lot of your winnings, so she owes you that as well.”
I pushed him inside another inn. Surly looking guy at the door. He took one look at Beriss, bound and hobbling with his boots clutched in his hands, and held his palm up towards my chest. “That’s far enough.”
“Does this guy have a room here?”
Beriss wasn’t too subtle about shaking his head at the doorman.
“Not anymore, he doesn’t.”
“We need to get his things.”
“What’s this about?”
I nudged Beriss in the back. “Do you want to tell him or shall I?”
It turned out: neither.
Beriss bolted inside, running straight past the surprised doorman and hurrying upstairs.
“HEY!” The doorman dove towards the wall, his hand reaching for something that would soon be a problem for us all. I charged after Beriss, firing off another karma spell to trip the bastard up, but I mis-judged the timing. Beriss’ foot landed safely on the stairs and probably never even felt me trying to knock it off to the side. Worse still, that was the last charge I had and my tripping capabilities were now exhausted.
He was a fast fucker, too. Up the stairs, around the corner, barreling along the corridor which contained locked doors and a window with wooden slats keeping it secure.
I expected him to keep running, to try his luck at the window. I was wrong. He reached the final door to his right, banging on it frantically and shouting like a lunatic at midnight. Someone opened it up. Beriss squeezed inside and tried to close it after him.
I slammed my shoulder into it, knocking whoever stood behind into the wall.
Bedrolls on the ground. Packs used as pillows. No furniture. There were three people in the room, though. Two had been lying down, the third had just been flung against the wall.
Beriss ran to the far end. “He’s trying to kill me!”
The doorman was thundering up the stairs after us, a club in his hand.
I slammed the door closed. Drew my blade. “By the order of the Syuss Magistrate, this man is under arrest for seduction.”
The two guys on the ground rose to their feet. “You ain’t no city watch.”
“I’m a bounty hunter.”
The speaker cracked his knuckles. “Yeah? So are we.”
“He’s mine.”
“Yeah, but by the looks of things, you probably have a few charges against you too, am I right?”
The doorman started banging loudly behind me, waking the whole building. “Oi, you two! Get the fuck out here!”
The two men drew their blades. They started to feel a lot more like bounty hunters now. The one at the door was younger. Weaker. Different clothes, different complexion. Terrified of being there. A traveler with the misfortune of staying in the same room as three trouble makers.
“Seduction, hey? That’s, what, fifteen, twenty marks? At best?”
More banging from behind me.
Beriss said, “I’ll pay you both five marks right now if you
help me get out of here.”
The speaker smacked his lips. “Really? Five easy marks, and all we have to do is open that door and let the doorman fuck up your friend a little?”
The other turned to Beriss, sizing him up. He seemed ready to slice Beriss’ laces free from his wrists, then though the better of it. Beriss saw his predicament and hobbled to get his boots back onto his feet.
Still more stupid banging from the corridor. “Open this door or I’ll open it myself!”
“It’s going to get real ugly if he comes in here,” I said.
The quiet one became more vocal. “And five marks ain’t that much.”
“It’s all I have,” muttered Beriss.
“That’s a lie,” I said. “He has at least twelve on him.”
“I can’t give away all my money.”
More banging. “Open this fucking door!”
There would be a rabble in the corridor by now. Plenty of witnesses. No easy way for me down that narrow passageway. And the windows here weren’t exactly windows. They were six feet off the ground, long, narrow, and barred with thick wooden slats.
“Fine!” shouted Beriss. “You can have it all!”
“Pay up,” said the chatty one.
“Uh … he has it.”
They both rolled their eyes at Beriss. “Really? He has your money?”
I tossed Beriss’ purse out the window.
Beriss deflated in an instant. The two bounty hunter’s dropped their stance, annoyed, and gave up.
“Hand him over,” I said.
The chatty one lowered his weapon. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.” His friend did the same.
Beriss seemed positively beside himself in fright. Spluttering. Gasping. Turning from one man to the other, all in a desperate bid for someone to answer his prayers. “But ...”
“But nothing,” said the chatty one. “He wants you that bad, he’s going to get you.”
“I can get you more money!”
The chatty one grabbed Beriss’ tunic, yanked him forward, and kicked him towards me. “You couldn’t even pay us five each. Now fuck off.”
Beriss landed in front of me, eyes wide, his mouth trembling. I raised my shin into his balls, hard enough to buckle him over, gentle enough that he wasn’t in any real danger of never being a father. With him kissing the floor I grabbed the back of his tunic, sliced from his neck to his ass, pulled him back to his feet and shoved his clothes into his hands. I squeezed his arm tighter than a hangman’s noose. He had fallen icy cold, nearly to the point of shivering.
Outside, bang bang bang. “Open this fucking door!”
I did so.
I honestly don’t think the doorman expected me to do that. He pulled back, needing a moment to think.
“We’re leaving,” I said, and pushed Beriss forward, into the corridor, and passed the frightened guests.
“Hey … hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The doorman thumped after me, his club shaking in the air. Given the narrow corridor he wouldn’t be able to get much of a swing, but a club to the head would still hurt even with a thrust forward. I kept one eye behind me, making sure he wasn’t going to try it. I pushed Beriss through the corridor, down the stairs, and into the common room below, with Beriss’ bare back seen by no less than twenty people.
“I’m sorry,” spluttered Beriss, over and over again.
I pushed him out onto the street, turned, and threw Beriss into the shadows.
Four soldiers. Different than the five I’d seen before. No packs, but still armed with short swords and javelins. They were staring up at one window, their eyes practically dropping out of their skulls as a buxom woman leaned out of the window. She chuckled at them, disappeared from sight as they begged her to return, then came a bare ass poking out of the window, shaking itself about. The soldiers cheered in delight. The ass spun around. A tubby guy in a beard leaned out and laughed at the soldiers. The soldiers hissed and booed, then three of them chuckled at the gag. The bearded man laughed in return, closed the shutter. The soldiers thumped each other in the shoulder. Strolled away.
My breathing had yet to settle. Not only did I need to reclaim Beriss’ money pouch before the magistrate fined me, I had to do it with soldiers lurking on the same street as me. Worse still, my brilliant plan to sleep in Beriss’ room had just disappeared.
It left me in another bind: if he reported his money stolen and put a black mark against my name then the magistrate would only pay me enough money to make up the difference. Eight marks wasn’t going to be enough, not when I was counting on twenty.
The doorman found us, his club pointing straight at my face. “If I ever see you again …”
I prodded Beriss forward, past the dozen buildings until we reached the corner.
“I really am sorry,” he spluttered again.
We stopped. The doorman needed a moment to pace back and forth, working through a surge in energy before he returned to his post.
I pulled Beriss back the way we came.
“Hey, what … what are you doing?”
We stopped next to the inn. One of the bounty hunters from his room had his arm out the window, trying to reach Beriss’ pouch on the roof of the building next door.
I pushed Beriss towards the bakery. “Climb up.”
“I … what? How?”
I threw his boots onto the roof.
“Hey!” It might’ve been loud enough to summon the doorman.
“Give me your trousers,” I said.
“No!”
I pushed my blade towards his crotch. He squirmed, staggering back across the uneven ground.
“Okay! I’ll climb onto the fucking roof.”
I’d like to say it was easy, but even a single story can be a pain in the ass when you’re partnered with an uncooperative runaway with his hands bound together. The roof itself was A-framed. Presumably his purse had rolled into the gutter, close to his former room. The two bounty hunters were grunting to themselves and had lowered a fishing hook onto the tiles. They saw me, swore, and resorted to peculiar measures. The chatty one left the room and ventured onto the street, his knife drawn.
“I see, so you’re a thief now?” I asked him.
“No, but that’s ours.”
“How about you take whatever belongings he had in his room and divide it as you see fit. Or, you can be a decent human being and hand it into the magistrate’s office tomorrow as soon as it opens?”
He sneered at me, the sting of nearly earning five or six marks snatched away from him twice in the one evening souring his mood. “How about I climb up there and take him off your hands?”
I paid him no attention. The talkative ones are often the dumb ones, and dumb ones like to provoke fights. With any luck he’d seen enough go down to know that you need to be wary of the quiet ones, as the quiet ones tend to spend their time figuring out how to fight you instead of trying to come up with a witty retort to show off how smart they’re trying to be.
Despite all the dead leaves and grit on the roof, and all of the folks in the windows peering at me, I found Beriss’ money pouch near the top of the A. I guess I’d hurled it better than I realized.
We moved on, rooftop to rooftop, until we reached the one at the end of the road. This one was flat, covered in dry bird shit, but hidden enough from anyone around us. As far as impromptu bedrooms went it would have to do. Beriss wasn’t yet aware of this and continued sauntering towards the road, ready to drop down.
“No you don’t.”
He stared back at me as the next few hours started to become crystal clear. “We’re sleeping on the roof?”
“Yes we are. Sit your ass down and behave yourself. Maybe even take this moment to reflect on the friends and family you’ve disappointed by getting a little too friendly with someone well above your station in life.”
I settled myself in for another night of discomfort, but at least my day was ending a little richer than how it started.
“I did
n’t mean to run out on her,” he mumbled.
“How do I find the rich woman?” I asked, wholly disinterested in Beriss’ sob story.
He fell to a mumble. “I don’t know. I didn’t even speak to her much tonight.”
“But you knew who she was.”
“Only when you realized your money was gone.”
The road beside us started to swell with laughter, like the gods had decided to mock me at that inopportune moment. Groups of mostly men, occasionally women, moseyed about. Some looking for a drink, others talking about finding a woman who loved a man in uniform. All regional accents. At first I paid it little attention, but the differences quickly started to mount. None were from Verseii.
I peered over, my heart sinking. Four soldiers walked along, their helmets in their hands, almost skipping with joy. Behind them, three more, their javelins jostling back and forth as one fella turned, walking backwards, pointing to his cock like it was the size of his forearm. Elsewhere, two more groups of soldiers moved along, whispering excitedly, hurrying along before the last of the taverns closed up for the night.
Beriss tucked his knees in towards his chest. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“As soon as the sun is up you’re going to see the magistrate. After that I really don’t give a fuck.”
“I mean, what do they usually do to people like me?”
“The last guy I brought in had his dick cut off. The guy before that? His right hand.”
Beriss found a moment of introspection then and was thankfully quiet for a while. Twenty marks for this pain the ass. A day of questioning his friends in Erast, then a day and a night coming to Verseii, another two days of checking each of the taverns and inns for any game that was in his financial bracket. Then losing every penny I had to a thief.
I turned over the events of the game that night, trying to figure out exactly when the rich woman – or whoever the thief really was – made her move.
Beside me, Beriss started sobbing.
On the street below, the excited whispers of soldiers refused to stop. Mages walking with each other, infantry strolling along, archers with their bows held lightly in their hands. No one with packs, not like the five-some I saw earlier that night in the inn. Those five looked like they were staying for the night. Unless the rest planned on spending a fortune in a brothel they would have to make their way back to camp, wherever that was.