The Beggar's Wrath

by J B Drake

  “And second?” she asked.

  “Nobody can tell that drunk bastard to do anything. Too bloody stupid.”

  “Maline,” Marshalla replied in her best imitation of her friend’s voice. “Language. We got guests.”

  “Oh, shut up, you!”

  Grinning, Marshalla looked back at Thane, but her grin soon faded. “Thank you for helping, but don’t believe you. Sorry, just don’t believe you.”

  Nodding, Thane sighed as he stood tall. “Then we shall have to earn your trust.”

  “Why?” Marshalla asked. “What for?”

  “Redemption,” Eldred replied as he rose.

  Sharing a quick glance, both bowed to Marshalla before heading for the front door. Marshalla watched as they left, her eyes upon them right until Thane closed the door. Then she stared at the others. Their gazes were upon her.

  “What?” she demanded.

  Neither’s lips moved, but their eyes spoke volumes. Snarling, she spun on her heels and stormed over to the kitchen. Sod her promise, she was dining first.

  *****

  Sitting in their customary spot within the Tower’s sprawling garden, Thane stared at the Matriarch’s Maze, his mind awhirl.

  “Did you hear a word I just said?” Eldred asked, bringing Thane out of his thoughts.

  Turning, he stared at his friend. “What?”

  Eldred smiled. “The girl’s gotten under your skin that badly?”

  Thane smirked. “Oh no, Eldred, quite the opposite. It’s been an age since I met someone that strong-willed. But I’m going to break her resolve, you just watch.”

  Smirking still, he turned his gaze back to the Maze. “I’m going to break her resolve, then I’m going to enjoy her.”

  “You’re going to enjoy who now?”

  Turning, the pair watched as Neremi and Thalas made their way towards them.

  “Thane is salivating again.”

  “I am not salivating!” Thane snapped as Neremi and Thalas sat.

  “Sounded like you were,” Neremi replied, grinning.

  Sighing, Thane shook his head at her.

  “Whatever,” he said before turning his gaze to Thalas. “You were late in again today.”

  “You’re monitoring my movements now?” Thalas asked, smirking.

  “No,” Eldred replied, “but it’s hard not to notice when the most punctual of us misses his first two lessons of the day.”

  “Well,” Neremi replied. “If you must know, Thalas had to stay behind this morning. His darling father wanted a word.”

  “Oh?” Thane asked, sensing some rather juicy gossip in the offing. “About?”

  “Nothing of import, it—” Thalas began, but Neremi waved his words away.

  “His dear father wanted to know where he got the money for our feast yesterday, and judging by the state of him this morning, the old man was quite…forceful, shall we say.”

  “What did you tell him?” Eldred asked, his worry plain.

  “Oh, spare me, Eldred,” Thalas replied. “If I had told him anything, would I be sitting here so calm?”

  “It’s a wonder you’re able to sit at all,” Neremi muttered.

  “Hey!”

  “Still think it was a good idea?” Thane asked, grinning.

  “I regret nothing,” Thalas replied, his words eliciting snickers from his friends.

  “But enough about me,” he said after a brief spell. “How goes it with the pair?”

  “Well,” Eldred began. “The boy is as good as ours.”

  “Brilliant!” Neremi exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Eldred replied. “But the girl is proving difficult.”

  “Damn.”

  “I know.”

  “But I will break her resolve,” Thane added. “You can count on that.”

  “What happened, precisely?” Thalas asked.

  “Well,” Eldred replied, then regaled his friends on the events that transpired after he and Thane left the Grovemender residence, from their chance arrival right when Maline’s life was threatened, to the brief dialogue with Tip, and their dialogue in Marshalla’s residence, right up to the brief but excruciating exchange between them and Marshalla that very morning when they chanced upon her within the Tower grounds.

  “Hrm,” Thalas muttered once Eldred had fallen silent. “This could be a problem for us.”

  “I will break her resolve,” Thane repeated.

  Shaking his head, Thalas turned his gaze to his friend. “We only have two weeks to befriend them.”

  “Two weeks?” Eldred repeated.

  “You never mentioned that yesterday,” Thane added.

  Thalas shrugged. “It slipped my mind. But regardless, Lady Fairshroud wants us ready to move at a moment’s notice two weeks from now.”

  Shaking his head, Thane waved Thalas’s apparent concern away. “Two weeks is more than enough time.”

  “There is a lot of money hinging on this, Thane,” Thalas said.

  “I’m well aware of that,” Thane snapped. “But I will have her. In two weeks, she will be spreading her legs for me whenever I so much as snap my fingers.”

  “She is not like the others, Thane,” Eldred warned. “There was clear distrust in her. Distrust and disdain.”

  “I will have her, damn you!” Thane snarled.

  “Then we shall leave her to you,” Thalas interjected, silencing Eldred before he could speak.

  Turning, Thane glared at Thalas a spell before nodding.

  “Good,” Thalas continued. “And this Fargus, who is he?”

  “From what we could gather,” Thane replied, “he appears to be tied to Maline somehow. A brother, or lover or some-such. Seems to be a complete drunkard.”

  Thalas frowned. “Then, why do the woman harm?”

  Thane shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Sighing, Thalas frowned. “We’ll have to find him and take care of him. We can’t have him ruin things for us.”

  “How do we find him, though?” Eldred asked. “We know very little about him, and I can’t see us asking Maline about him without raising her suspicions.”

  “Hrm…” Thalas muttered, staring into the ether as he pondered Eldred’s words.

  “Perhaps your Lady Fairshroud can help us?” Neremi asked as she turned to stare square at Thalas.

  Both Thane and Eldred shared a smirk. The barb in her words was unmistakable.

  “Good idea,” Thalas replied as he stared at Neremi. “With her connections she should be able to find him quickly.”

  Thane and Eldred stared at one another once more. Perhaps the barb wasn’t that unmistakable after all.

  “But it does mean a change of plan,” Thalas continued, turning to Eldred and Thane both. “With the girl behaving like she is, were Neremi and I to become hostile, she’d only be harder to turn. So we will keep our distance, but remain pleasant.”

  “For your sakes, of course,” Neremi added.

  “Of course,” Thane replied while Eldred nodded.

  “Good. Now, I must be off, Father’s given me some errands to run and I’d rather have them done sooner than later.”

  “You’re coming back?”

  Thalas nodded as he rose. “Soon as I’m done.”

  “See you later, then,” Eldred replied. Nodding, Thalas turned and left. Watching it all in silence, Neremi stared in confusion at Thalas before springing to her feet and hurrying after him.

  “You never mentioned any errands,” she said once she reached him.

  “That’s because there aren’t any,” Thalas replied, his gaze forward.

  “Thalas, I don’t—”

  “If Eldred is worried, Neremi, so should we.”

  “Then, why lie?”

  “Had to get away from Thane, need to think. We need an alternate plan here, there’s too much at stake now. We need to shore ourselves up, but hells if I know what that is.”

  Nodding, Neremi smiled as she entwined an arm about Thalas’s. “You’ll think o
f something.”

  Smiling, Thalas turned to stare at her before leaning in and kissing her lovingly.

  “By the bye,” he said once their lips parted, “are you truly jealous of me having Netari Fairshroud in my room?”

  In an instant, Neremi’s face darkened as she glared at her beloved, and with a ferocious snarl, tore her arm free before storming off toward the Tower. Grinning, Thalas watched her march away for a brief spell, a wry smile upon his lips.

  “I regret nothing,” he whispered, then hurried after her.

  *****

  It was a struggle for Mardaley to keep his mind upon the ingredients before him, but an even bigger one to keep his composure. It was the fourth day that Tip was to be escorted to his store by the Rosethorn boy, and a full week since they’d first walked into the store with the boy in tow, and the thought of it all made had him ill at ease.

  From the corner of his eye, Mardaley watched as Maline attended to customers. How could she be so calm about it all? Could she not see it was all a ruse? It had to be. He’d tried to make them see reason, of course, the day they first arrived with that boy in tow, but neither would listen, not Maline, nor Tip.

  Fighting back a snarl, Mardaley turned his attention to the ingredients in his hands. That he was so powerless to stop that boy sinking his claws deeper into Tip was what frustrated him the most. He should’ve foreseen this, he and Baern both. Though life on the streets was harsh for a boy Tip’s age, he nonetheless was forever surrounded by friends and companions, be it Marshalla, Maline, or a whole host of others Mardaley knew not. But in the Tower, Tip was on his lonesome. He’d thought having Anieszirel would’ve been company enough for Tip, but clearly he was wrong. And now he had to find a way to free Tip from the clutches of that boy before it was too late.

  Sighing, Mardaley moved to place the elbst scales in his hand upon the shelf. As he stepped forward, however, the door opened. Turning, he smiled in spite of himself.

  “Hi, Mardaley!”

  Wearing his ever-ready grin, Tip stood in the doorway waving at him.

  “Hello, Tip,” he replied, but as he turned to the lad standing behind Tip, Mardaley’s smile dimmed a smidgeon.

  “Hello, Eldred.”

  Eldred bowed.

  “Good morning, Master Templeton,” he said, then, turned his gaze to Tip.

  “Same time?”

  Tip nodded.

  “Good,” Eldred replied before turning to Maline, who was staring at them both whilst talking to the customer before her. Smiling, Eldred bowed to her, then turned to bow to Mardaley before finally leaving.

  Mardaley watched him leave before turning his gaze to Tip as the little elf made his way over.

  “Need a hand?”

  Mardaley shook his head.

  “Table is all set,” he said. “You go on up. I need to head out to meet someone, but should be back by the time you’re nice and fed.”

  Grinning, Tip raced up the steps to the table upon which a nice warm meal awaited him. But as he clambered onto a seat, Mardaley placed the scales where they belonged and grabbed his coat. With a tight frown, the wizened storekeeper hurried down the street, his gaze hardened.

  As he marched, Mardaley’s thoughts became dark and despondent. His feet carried him almost of their own accord down darkened streets and quiet alleys with a haste that belied his age, till he stood before his destination, a quaint tavern far enough removed to allow him some semblance of privacy. With his face set, Mardaley marched in, scanning the sea of faces the moment he was through the door. It wasn’t long before he spotted Drake, or rather, he spotted Drake staring at him. Nodding, Mardaley hurried over to his table by the fireplace. Drake was snarling.

  “Ever heard of subtlety, Mardaley?” he growled as Mardaley sat.

  “What do you mean?” Mardaley asked, frowning.

  “Standing in the door way staring like some peace keeper on a power high is about as sure a way to get you noticed as any.”

  Glowering, Mardaley looked about him as furtively as he could. None were staring. Turning to Drake once more, he finally noticed the three tankards before him.

  “You’ve been waiting long?” he asked, nodding to the tankards.

  Looking down, Drake burped before looking back at Mardaley.

  “Can you blame me?” he snarled. “Told you to be early, didn’t I?”

  Mardaley shook his head at this. “And I told you, I had to wait for Tip’s arrival first. I’ve always been there to welcome him, even when I’ve had visits to make. I break from that tradition and I will raise their suspicions.”

  Shaking his head, Drake raised one of the tankards to his lips.

  “Whatever,” he mumbled as he took a deep gulp.

  Gritting his teeth, Mardaley held his peace. Foul though his mood was, no good would come from snapping at Drake.

  “What did you learn?” he asked once Drake had lowered his tankard.

  Drake stared hard at him. “The highland barons have been receiving fresh shipments of mithril since Baern’s arrival. Nothing astounding, just normal weights.”

  “But they don’t sit right with you?”

  Drake shook his head. “No. Nothing untoward in the shipments themselves, but of their origin, there is nothing. Nobody seems to know where they’re from, nor does anybody know when the orders were placed, or even how they were paid for. At least none of the workers.”

  Sighing himself, Mardaley sat back in his seat.

  “And I take it you checked Fairshroud’s mines?” he asked wearily.

  Drake nodded. “Nothing untoward there either, all their mithril is accounted for. Except lately a higher proportion than usual of the ore dug out is being found to be impure. It’s not high enough a proportion to be a concern, except nobody could clearly say what’s happened to all that impure ore.”

  As he listened, Mardaley felt both vindication and despair. It was a most unpleasant feeling.

  “Looks like you were right, Mardaley…again.”

  Mardaley shook his head. “This is hardly a cause for celebration.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  It was then that Mardaley heard the concern in Drake’s voice, and as he heard it, his gaze softened.

  “We’re not beaten yet,” he said with a slight smile.

  “What’s going on, Mardaley? Are they in trouble?”

  Mardaley sighed. “We underestimated that woman, Drake.”

  “Who? Netari?”

  Mardaley nodded. “I should’ve seen it. A woman with that much hate in her wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let Tip get on with his life. I should’ve known she’d try something like this.”

  “Then we should get them out of that Tower,” Drake replied. “If she has the reach to have Baern moved that far away from Tip’s side, there’s no telling how far her reach goes.”

  Mardaley shook his head. “Getting him out is her plan.”

  Drake frowned. “You’re not making sense.”

  Mardaley leant forward. “For as long as the Tower has its eye on Tip, she can do nothing to him. Removing Baern meant removing the keenest of the Tower’s eyes, but there are others; Naeve, Anise and many others. If we remove Tip, she will be free to bring down the full might of her wealth and alliances upon him.”

  “So, what, we do nothing?”

  Again, Mardaley shook his head. “We can’t anymore.”

  “Mardaley,” Drake pleaded, sighing deeply. “It’s too early for cryptic answers.”

  Mardaley smiled in spite of himself, but it was brief.

  “Do you remember the young mages that were there when we ended things?”

  Drake frowned as he nodded.

  “She’s using them to lure Tip out of the Tower’s reach.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “One of them has befriended Tip, escorts him from the Tower to the store and back. Daily.”

  Drake’s frown deepened. “Maline’s fine with this?”

  Mardaley nodded.
“It was she and Tip who told me. They claim he’s changed, that he’s trying to make up for past sins. But I saw through him the first day he showed up with them.”

  “What did he do?”

  “It’s not what he did, it’s what he said. I realised Netari’s intent the moment that boy opened his mouth.”

  “What did he say, then?”

  Lowering his gaze to the tankards, Mardaley placed a hand upon the table as he spoke.

  “When I asked him why he cared, he answered that he sought redemption, to make up for past wrongs.”

  Drake shrugged, his frustration plain. “Same as what Maline and Tip said, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Mardaley replied, looking up at him. “But consider this. His idea of redemption is to make friends with the one person Netari Fairshroud blames for the death of her sons, sons Eldred had known since childhood.”

  “How in the world does that stop him seeking redemption?”

  “Because he’s known Netari Fairshroud since childhood, Drake. Few would know the depths of her rage better than he, or the extent of her cruelty. Few would have reason to fear her more than he. And yet, he is eager to befriend Tip. Would it not be better, safer even, to simply give Tip a wide berth and seek redemption by leaving the boy in peace?”

  Drake stared hard at Mardaley, but kept his peace.

  “No, Drake,” Mardaley continued. “He’ll only do this with Netari’s blessing. And the only reason she’d give such a blessing is if she intends to use this burgeoning friendship to lure Tip away from the Tower, lure him somewhere where she can have her revenge.”

  “You’re reaching, Mardaley.”

  “Am I? Explain the mithril.”

  “Tirelin,” Drake replied. “They’re his mines, not Netari’s. I don’t doubt that he’s bribing the highland barons, but they may well be for something else. You know how greedy those nobles get.”

  “Now, who’s reaching? Both their sons died, Drake, Netari’s favourite, and Tirelin’s. Those two were always joined at the hip, the death of their sons would’ve made them even more so.”

  Drake stared at Mardaley in silence for a spell.

  “Why don’t you just tell Tip all of this. He trusts you, doesn’t he? And Maline. Why all this sneaking?”

  Mardaley stared at Drake with an air of exasperation. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve spoken and spoken till I turned blue in the face! Neither of them want to hear it. They’re both convinced I’m just not ready to trust the boy’s sincerity. Maline’s even forbidden me from bringing it up!”