Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One

by Justan Henner

  Rise shrugged. “We were kids.”

  “But why that?”

  Rise shrugged again. “Because he likes them as old and wrinkly as himself. Least that’s what the older kids would tell us.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” Skibs said. “Night we caught Trin in the library, the Cleric was eyeing her like he’d never seen a woman before, right Bell?”

  Bell didn’t much feel like playing along, but he put on his best smile and did so anyway. “Something kept him from putting her in the stocks. That’s for sure.”

  “Hey,” Trin said, glaring despite her wide smile. “That was because he liked my opinions.”

  Skibs glanced at Bell with a laugh. Bell felt his smile stretch taut. He could feel the dread building like vomit rising in his throat. Everyone had their superstitions, and their moronic beliefs, but Trin’s were causing her trouble, and it was damned hard to watch.

  “Well anyway,” Trin continued, “the old witch is standing there in the doorway to that little cottage, starin’ down at me with this look that spoke of both uncontainable warmth and bright-eyed curiosity. She seemed so delighted to see me there at her door, I coulda sworn she’d not had a visitor in ages. Looked so damned confused when she says to me, ‘Oh, hello dear. Can I help you? I was expecting someone else.’

  “Didn’t know how I was supposed to respond to a statement like that. What was I supposed to do? I mean, was I supposed to apologize for being someone other than who she thought? I wasn’t going to do that. Instead, I says to her, ‘How do you know that? I could be exactly who you expected and you just didn’t know it.’

  “Course that whole statement is nonsense, but that haggard old witch didn’t take it that way. She glares down at me over her spectacles and says, ‘You are quite right, child. Perhaps what I expect is not what I require. Why don’t you come in? There is tea over the fire.’

  “Well, I sure as shit didn’t want to do that, because at that age you get into your own head, and even though I knew she wasn’t no witch, a part of me kept saying that the woman was going to grind me up for stew. But I’m an awful sport. While I’m on top, I gotta rub it in, so of course, me being an idiot, I had to go in there so I could say I’d done it later. So, them two parts are warring it out, trying to decide which I should do, but that bastard tongue of mine tries to stall and asks her, ‘What about your guest? Won’t they be upset?’

  “Well, the old witch frowns, and right then the tea kettle goes off, so she turns to get it off the fire. I shoulda taken that moment to run, but instead, I’m waiting there for the answer. Finally, she gets that kettle off the fire, grabs two cups, and sets them on that tiny little table in the center of the room. As she’s doing that she says, ‘You are here, which means she will not come.’

  “Well that was right ominous. Damned near spooky, but the hag had already set the cups, and I mighta been willful, but I wasn’t no rube, so I couldn’t turn back after that. Had to go in there and drink that witch’s tea, even if it turned me into a fish like that wench in Just’s Fables. Anyway, I went in and shut the door behind me, then sat at that table across from the witch, but it turns out she wasn’t done bitchin’ ‘bout her friend yet, and while she’s pouring the tea, says, ‘That woman. She thinks it enough to hide her children from me, but I have seen her game. If she would only come, we could discuss the future she seeks, we want the same thing after all, but the fool must have it her way and only her way. But this world is not hers, and her unfettered breeding has only brought suffering. She thinks her meddling will appease her god, but Absence does not exist. If there is to be hope for this world, the younglings must be fated.’”

  “What in the Mother’s name are you talking about?” Acklin asked.

  “The shit if I know,” Trin said. “I’m just telling you what she said, but I ain’t never been able to understand no priest’s gibberish. That’s why I only ever hear half of what Bell’s tryin’ to say to me.”

  She may not know what the priest had meant, but Bell was certain she’d spent nearly two decades brooding on the possibilities. The story was almost exactly the same every time she told it, down to the word. Trin had a good memory, but that kind of precise repetition spoke of obsession. She must have run the story through her head a million times, dissecting every bit of it for more clues. What depressed him was that she truly believed those clues might lead somewhere, that she needed those clues to lead somewhere, as if she could not be free from her imagined destiny unless she broke some binding rule or solved some magic riddle.

  “Anyway,” Trin continued, “I didn’t know what gibberish she was speaking, so I just sipped my tea while that old woman vented, me glancing at the door, well because I was a kid and at that age you don’t know any better than to make your desired escape obvious. Well she musta seen my eyes dartin’ ‘cause she stops all the sudden and says to me, ‘And where is it that you would like to be, child?’

  “‘Ain’t nowhere I’d like to be,’ I said back. Course, that wasn’t true in the slightest. I was worried she was about to tell me her whole life’s story and she looked about old enough to have lived three of ‘em.

  “I could tell she didn’t believe me though. She sat there a moment, with the tea to her lips, sipping silently, but glaring at me real calm like over the rim of that cup. Finally she says, ‘There was a time when children were sworn into service. Dydal has tried to copy the bonding with this paltry priesthood of his, but Just’s Oath is not as strong as that granted by Fate…’

  “She lowered the cup then, but high enough her nostrils kept flaring like she was sniffing the fumes. After this big long pause, she says, ‘Would you like to return to the past, child?’

  “‘I don’t know,’ I said. And I didn’t. It’s not like I had ever been to the past before, right? And I wasn’t old enough to know much history, so I didn’t know whether or not there was something in the past I’d like to see.

  “‘If you do not know,’ she asks, ‘then why come to the door of an old witch?’

  “I’ll admit, she had me there. What kinda idiot visits a witch without a reason? Got me right stumped, so while I’m sitting there trying to decide what I should or shouldn’t tell her, she just continues right on.

  “‘Perhaps it does not matter what you would like,’ she says. ‘Or what I would like, for that matter. It is not often that we find our destiny. It is far more common that it should find us. I never believed that Fate would send me here, nor you to me, and yet here we are, sitting across from one another, sharing a moment that might change everything. Perhaps it is as you said. Perhaps you are exactly what I require.’

  “‘I didn’t say that,’ I said to her. For some reason I was in a mind to argue, but that’s how I’ve always been. Don’t like it when someone misquotes me. ‘I said you didn’t know you were expecting me.’

  “‘Yes,’ she says to me. ‘Those things are one in the same. Those I expect are those I require. You see, I may have been wrong. It is not the Whore who will bring about my desires. It is you.’

  “‘Ain’t nobody sent me. I came here on a bet.’

  “I dunno what it was I said that made her so happy, but right then that witch smiled something awful. Big old teeth, white and pristine, nicer than I’d ever seen before, and she says, ‘On a bet, you say? On a bargain? I can deal in those.’

  “Now, obviously I wasn’t going to deal with a witch, even with a witch who I knew for a fact wasn’t really a witch. You can call me a coward for that, but I call it downright intelligent. So, I said that exact thing to her, I said, ‘I’m not betting no witch.’”

  “So, was she really a witch, or not?” Bern demanded.

  “Hold on,” Trin said. “I’m getting there. Anyway, the witch says to me, ‘It is not a bet, it is a deal. You lose nothing if you fail. You gain nothing if you do not succeed.’

  “‘I ain’t dealing with no witch then,’ I said back.

  “‘You would refuse before I even make the offer? My requ
est is simple, will you not at least hear it?’

  “‘No.’

  “‘But my god can give you anything you’d like, child. Think of anything and my god can grant it.’

  “‘Don’t want anything,’ I said.

  “‘Nothing?’ that witch said. ‘You are a young woman. Perhaps you would like a young priest? A valiant hero to swoon over, who will love you and provide for you?’

  “‘Already got one of those,’ I said to her, but of course, Taehrn weren’t no valiant hero, just a lying dick. ‘Parents inked the marriage contract last month.’

  “The witch didn’t seem happy about that answer. Clicked her mouth shut, in that real angry way people do that makes you think they’re about ready to smash their own teeth to bits. ‘Perhaps you would like adventure then?’ she says. ‘There is a world outside this city, you know, ready to be explored, ready for a hero.’

  “‘I’ll make my own,’ I says to her.

  “The witch’s lip curled then, up and back, so that it twisted her nose into this big ugly sneer. ‘My request is simple,’ she repeated. ‘And I can give you anything in return. I could make you the first female High Cleric in all of Trel’s history.’

  “Well, I’ll admit that one gave me a pause. I’m not one for glory and attention – why you looking at me like that, Bell? – Oh fine,” Trin sighed. “I love ‘em both and that’s exactly why it gave me pause. I swear my chest froze then. I’ve never been ashamed of greed, but that was one of them times where the greed makes you so damned interested, you’re ashamed of feeling that vulnerable, of feeling like you could be bought and sold, and all it takes is someone else knowin’ the right price.

  “‘All right,’ I said. ‘What’s your request?’

  “‘All you must do,’ she says, ‘is bring Death into the world.’

  “‘I’m not gonna kill anyone. What are you, some freaky, old blooder?’

  “‘I am not a blooder, child. I am merely a humble servant. And I have not asked you to kill anyone. All I asked was that you bring Death into the world.’

  “‘The gods’ butchering shit I will,’ I says to her.” Trin beamed. “Boy, was I a little darling. Shoulda seen me. ‘You can do your own killing, witch.’

  “‘That is not what I asked,’ that evil woman said. And the way she said it too, gods it was insufferable, as if I was the one making unreasonable demands.

  “‘Tough shit,’ I said.

  “Well she stares at me a minute, still calm, still with that curious look, and finally she says ‘Whether you accept this bargain or not, I suspect my desires will have you regardless. Is it not better to accept, and have your desires in return? Is there nothing I could offer you?’

  “I was feeling real stubborn at this point. Wanted nothing more than to throw that tea right in her face and start running, but she was a priest, and if I did that, the priesthood would find me. Only thing I could think of to defy that woman was to mock her. ‘You could make me a god,’ I said to her. ‘That’s what you can butchering do for me.’

  “And that’s when that damned smile popped back onto her face, that wide, predatory grin. ‘Done,’ she says, and then she stands and unhooks her cane from the back of her chair.

  “‘What?’ I says. ‘I was just-’

  “I tried to go on, but that woman just wasn’t going to hear it. ‘Our moment is over,’ she says. ‘And expectations met. It is time for you to go.’ Well, I was still sitting there with both hands cradling my cup when she starts poking me with that cane of hers.”

  “‘Quit it,’ I said, meanwhile I’m trying to swat that cane away, but she just keeps poking me in the side. ‘No wonder your guest didn’t show.’

  “‘Yes,’ she says, and this is what really pissed me off. ‘My absent guest is much smarter than a ten-year-old girl.’ Finally she gets me good, one right between two ribs, the pain so bad I jump outta that chair, bumping into that table as I try to flee, and end up tipping those cups right over. She may have got me good, but at least I ruined that demon’s table.

  “Well soon as I’m up, she grabs me by the hair and starts dragging me to the door. I’m screaming my head off, trying to get that woman to let me go before I smack them pretty teeth outta her mouth, which was adorable because I sure wasn’t tall or strong enough to deliver on that threat. ‘You think you can do this to me,’ I said. ‘You clearly don’t know who my daddy is if you think you can crack my ribs like that.’

  “And that’s when she reaches the door, swings it open, pulls me right up to her face and shouts, ‘I know exactly who you are, Trin Cavahl, and I know your papa too. Now, you tell him that he better teach you better than to ruin an old woman’s evening with your nasty pranks, or the next time he better hope it’s a real witch instead of me, because I might just be an old priest, but believe me girl, next time you’ll get much worse than the bad end of this cane.’”

  Laughter circled the campfire. Acklin’s face was red enough to match a tomato. Bern shifted so abruptly he knocked over his bowl. Rise near choked on her own exhalations, so much so that Skibs grabbed her shoulders before realizing she was okay. Everyone laughed. But Bell couldn’t.

  He couldn’t enjoy the story, because Trin couldn’t enjoy the story. She was as much as bearing her soul, as much as admitting her deepest insecurity, letting it out into the world for anyone to judge, and she could pretend it didn’t bother her all she wanted, but it wouldn’t fool him. Trin was scared, maybe even terrified, and she needed help.

  “Now,” Trin said, “I hear her say them words, and my name, and I think that was the first time in my life I ever been truly scared, ‘cause the way she said it, I knew she was telling the truth. Don’t know how she had figured out our game, but the old bag had tricked me good, actually made me think for a minute that maybe she was a witch. Last thing I feel is the heel of her shoe on my ass and the air rushing past as she’s pushing me out into her yard and slamming that door behind me.”

  “So,” Rise mused, “did you do what she asked?”

  “Course I did. How else you think I got to be so great? This ain’t a chance occurrence, it’s godhood, darling.”

  There was another wave of laughter.

  “So, what aspect did yer take?” Skibs asked. “The Drunk?”

  “Nah, I’m the Connoisseur. All of the benefits of the Drunk, but none of the negativity.”

  “Should have taken the Whoremonger,” Rise said. “Could’ve been at the top.”

  “Shit,” Trin cursed. “You’re right about that. Maybe I’ll go track that woman down and see if aspects are refundable.”

  Acklin slouched into his coat. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” he muttered.

  Trin waved the bottle toward him. “Oh, lighten up and take another drink.”

  Acklin took the bottle, raised his head, and smiled. “I only meant you shouldn’t disparage those of us truly meant for greatness. I met one of them Lockish mages once and he foretold I’d kill the Vandu consul one day. Going to become a godsdamned war hero I am, one dead heathen at a time.”

  Perval glared at the tallow merchant, his jaw straining beneath paled lips. Again, Kenneth muttered in Perval’s ear. Those three then, Bell decided. It was they who had the altercation.

  “How’re you going to kill the consul when you can barely hold your sword?” Bern asked.

  “Pah,” Acklin groaned. “Who needs the thing? I got my knife and my fists, don’t I?”

  From there the conversation turned, from Lock, to war, to hopes, and to fears. The bottle emptied. The coals dwindled. Whatever tension held between the two aging veterans and Acklin eased then fell away.

  Through all of it, Bell watched Trin. Her gaze avoided his, because even though she hid her fears from the rest, she knew better than to think she could hide them from him. He held his gaze to make a promise; he would not let this go without more words between them. But the guilt she hid beneath her easy manner was near impossible to bear. All he wanted was for her
to know that he would always be there for her, but she didn’t seem to see it that way. She didn’t want the help he could offer her. She didn’t want his reason. She wanted her belief.

  As the night stretched, their fellows began to drift away. At last, Skibs and Rise left for their tent, leaving only Bell and Trin. Though her eyes seemed to want nothing else, she did not try to escape him. He hoped she stayed because deep down she wanted to speak as much as he did, but he doubted it. It seemed more likely that she wanted the argument.

  “If I bring it up again are you going to listen this time?” Bell asked. He could have been nicer, he sorely wanted to be, but he feared she wouldn’t hear it if he did not use the tactic she would: mocking dismissal.

  Trin’s left hand twisted her sleeve. “Are you going to say something intelligent this time?” Trin asked.

  “It’s nothing different than what I’ve said before, but maybe you’ll hear it this time.”

  “I told you how I felt, Bell, because I trusted you, not so you could berate me with it.” Her eyelids narrowed to slits. “Do you think I believe it because I want to, Bell? Because I don’t. I believe it because it’s true. Don’t you want to help me?”

  “Of course I do, Trin, and I promised I would, but she was not a witch and she is not a god.” The words rasped in his throat. “She was just a priest, screwing with your head because we ruined her evening.”

  “I know what I felt, Bell.”

  “And what the Butcher does that mean? I feel dumb shit all the time. That doesn’t mean what I’m doing at the moment is anything special.”

  Her gaze drifted up to his as her lips parted in an amused smile. “Well, I won’t disagree that sometimes you’re a dumb shit.”

  That smile was warm enough to cherish, but right now he didn’t have it in him to share her laughter. “She didn’t curse you, Trin.”

  “No,” Trin agreed. “She didn’t. We bargained. I didn’t want to, but I let my big mouth say something stupid, and now I’ve got to live with the deal I’ve made.”

  Bell knocked his scabbard off his lap. “And what does that even mean? You’re not some puppet. You can still make your own choices, Trin. So why would you have to live with it? You want to believe in this deal? Fine. ‘You complete nothing, you lose nothing.’ That’s what she said, so just stop living your life like it’s some kind of weight over your head.”