The crowd began to cower, heads down and backing away.
“She’s a Royal!” someone screamed.
“Leave her be, or she’ll kill us all!” said another.
Now that’s more like it.
Trinos entered the city of Bone unmolested, and was gone.
Chapter 32
Back in school he had been smooth. The words had rolled from his tongue like sweet honey to the young girls' ears. Yes, Palos might not be the same lady killer she knew from the halls of school, but the man still had his charm just the same. Kam could feel his eyes pawing over her clothes, and she blushed. He was the man all the girls had wanted back then; notorious, shameless, and indiscreet.
Palos was the legitimate son of the Master Thief, Palzor. He also had many known sisters and brothers, all rumored to be from different mothers. Palos’s family was known to be from the Guild of Favors who controlled the slavers, smugglers, and whores. Yet, none of that was ever proven to be a fact, only suspected. Kam had known much of him when he was a young man. He was small, lithe, and clever-tongued. He was a trickster and juggler, a singer and heart-stealer. She began to perspire from the scent of his cologne. It was one of the most delicious things she ever smelled on a man.
“It’s good to s-see you, too, Palos,” she said, pinching her shirt together above her breasts.
It was odd watching him stroll inside her tavern with his eyes wandering around. His slim waist had been replaced by a thickened belly, and crow’s feet had landed by his soft eyes. Despite the man’s unusual girth, he still carried himself with a great deal of charm.
He walked over, placed her hand in his, and kissed it.
“Kam, you have always been magnificent, a beauty unlike the rest, but now … I can’t find the words, but I’d give a moat full of gold to find them.”
She wanted to stand, but her knees felt weak. His eyes had undressed her, and his words had melted her. He had always had that effect on her. She didn’t mind. It’s the Muckle Sap. Pull your legs together! She started to rise. Palos had her by the hands, his soft palms pulling her to her feet, face to face with him. She felt his arm wrap around her waist, holding her tight. She held his gaze, unable to break his stare. It had been months since she’d been with a man, and she'd tussled with Palos before. She remembered it well.
“Kam!” Georgio shouted.
She glared at the boy.
“What?”
“He’s got Lefty, Kam!”
Her weak knees stiffened as she shoved herself from Palos’s grasp.
“Is that so, Palos?”
He reached for her hands, but she jerked them away as he said, “I’m just holding him, Kam, scaring the boy. I caught the boys skimming in The Quarters, quite adeptly I might add.”
“Georgio! Is it true you are stealing?” she said, eyes searching for the boy who had crawled under a table.
“Lefty made me do it!”
Lefty! The boys had no business in The Quarters. Getting caught by the City Watch was one thing she could handle, but working without the consent of the thieves’ guild was another. The guild was known for their lack of tolerance for other thieves. The guild was tight, had its own caste system in place. Like the Royals, they had houses of their own, just not so many. The guilds were the notorious insiders of the Royal families, each aligned with one or another, working for favors. But, unlike the Royals, as a whole the thieves guild was loyal to the master guild. That one was at the top and oversaw them all. The ruler of the master guild was Palzor, King of the Thieves, making Palos the Prince of them all.
“Where is the boy, Palos? You need to release him now,” she said, struggling to keep her temper in check. It was one thing that the boys were stealing, but quite another that one was being held against his will.
Palos hoisted his leg on a chair.
“Ah Kam, how about some wine first?”
“Where is my boy, Palos?”
“Interesting … I didn’t know you had any children. Did you bear the boy under the table, too? I’m interested in the halfling most. How did you come upon him?” he said, taking a seat.
Kam didn’t like the shift in Palos’s tone.
“The halfling and the boy are dear friends of mine. If anything unfortunate were to happen to them, I’d be quite upset.”
Palos was balancing himself on the back legs of his chair, hands folded in his lap, toes not touching the floor, when he laughed.
“Easy Kam … now how about some wine? I am your guest here, and it’s been a while, so please sit down. Is that a bottle of Muckle Sap over there? Let’s finish it ... together,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
His voice left her calm and at ease. His suggestion loosened the muscles that had been knotting in her back. She fixed her auburn hair as he teetered back and forth on the legs of the chair. His chubby face was handsome and harmless, like a child's. She felt compelled to please him. She grabbed the unfinished wine bottle and started to pour.
“Kam,” a timid Georgio said from underneath the table, “he’s got Lefty and he put a knife to my throat!”
She turned on Palos, eyes blazing hot.
“You what?”
Palos raised his palms up.
“Easy now, I can explain. I was just trying to scare them is all. There are many urchins running around. I can’t sort them all out. I don’t know who is who. You realize there are things that I have to keep under control.”
Kam allowed a surge of energy to course through her, empowering her words.
“Get me my boy!”
The chandeliers shook. All four chair legs clopped back on the floor, Palos’s face visibly shaken. He stood up.
“I will, but things still need to be sorted out. I need some reassurance—”
“You will get nothing ... Rogue!”
Her voice was no longer human, and her face lit up like the embers of a fire. Palos took two long steps backward.
“Kam, you don’t want to upset the Guild of Favors. You know better … I’m just doing my job. My coming here was a favor. I could have done worse to the boys. It would be wise of you to settle down.”
It had been a bad morning that suddenly got worse. She had heard enough and seen enough for the day. No man, beast, or underling was going to tell her how to feel. Palos had picked the wrong moment in time to cross her. Any other moment in infinity would have been better. But now, Kam’s personal cosmos was going to collide with him.
Palos was still backing away, hands patting the air before him, a sheepish smile on his face.
“I tell you what, Kam; I’ll get you your boy. This time … no harm and no foul. But you’ll still owe me a small favor. Deal?”
Georgio was white-faced underneath the table, holding his ears. Kam was laughing, her face magnetic and hysterical. Palos eased his right foot backward, hips starting to turn.
“I don’t need you to get the boy. He is already here!”
Palos looked back over his shoulder and there Lefty was, hunkered down by the doorway.
“Impressive,” the man whispered under his breath.
Kam pointed her index finger down toward the floor. She muttered faint mystic-filled words. A long fiery snake burst from underneath the planks and slithered Palos’s way. What she was unleashing felt so good; it was just what she needed.
“Your illusions won’t work on me, Kam. Now, let this go, you are taking it too far … really,” he said as the snake licked at his boots.
“It’s no illusion — FOOL!”
Palos had his hands on his hips as the burning red snake coiled around his leg.
“Hah … certainly it is.”
His face changed dramatically when his clothes and hair began to burn.
“Gagh!” he cried, swatting at the coiling snake. Frantic, he ripped off his pants and slung them to the floor. They burned into a pile of ash. The snake slithered back his way, striking at his naked legs. It hissed and struck, backing him toward the door. It was quick, but the he
fty Palos was quicker.
Palos hissed back. “Kam, you’ll regret this! You owe me a favor, and I will be paid!”
The hefty man jumped clear through the window. The flaming snake pushed through the tavern wall like it wasn’t there and disappeared after the prince of thieves.
Kam didn’t bother to watch him go.
“Lefty! Georgio! Get over here—NOW!”
Chapter 33
The City of Bone was a maze compared to all of the other cities they had traveled. It was difficult to discern a street from an alley, and honest directions were hard to come by. The foul air was another assault that misguided Vorla’s senses. Regardless, she and her son, Brak, pushed their way through the busy city streets, drawing the attention of others. A group of children darted back and forth, shouting and pointing at her son.
“Big face!”
“Droopy eye!”
“He’s got a bird’s nest on his head!”
Brak shrugged it off, growled, and shoved them aside. They scrambled away, tongues hanging from their dirty faces, and fingers making unpleasant signs. It had been like this since they entered the city. The city was full of many odd things, but something about Brak made him stand out.
The City Watch was the hardest to get by. They didn’t let just anybody in Bone; it wasn’t some vacation town. Vorla didn’t have any trade or commerce to offer, and she didn’t want to part with her gold. People asked a lot of questions about Brak, and she found it easier to explain he was her brother, rather than her son. They took him for a useless dope and recommended she go back home. She wasn’t going to be deterred from her mission. It took some convincing by her, alone in the guard shack with one of the men. The City Watchman didn’t look half bad, and it had been a while, so she left him with a smile. Vorla and Brak had been searching the city ever since.
“I’m hungry, Mah,” the man-boy said.
Not again.
“We’ll find something soon, Brak, and stop calling me Mah.”
“Sorry, Mah,” he said again, looking around at all of the tall buildings.
The surroundings made her uncomfortable, too. If smaller cities made her uneasy, then Bone would soon make her insane. The open plains and farms were much more to her liking. The food was much better in the country, too. Her stomach started to grumble.
Brak stopped her in the middle of the street, forcing her to look up at him.
“I want more of those biscuits and goat milk. Can we go there again? Please?”
She couldn’t help but smile as she placed her rough had on his big face. She had no idea how to get back to where that place was, however.
“Certainly Son, now just you stay close behind.”
She walked on, determined not to ask questions of any more rude passersby. Brak followed, holding his tummy like a five-year-old. His big foot caught on the back of her boot and her foot slipped right out of it and landed in an oily puddle.
“Brak!”
“Sorry, Mah.”
She jerked off her sock, sniffed it, rung it out and put it back on.
“No stink?” her boy said.
She jammed on her boot.
“No!”
Every day of her life had been an adventure with Brak. She only had this one child, because after him she had vowed she would never have another. She didn’t think she could, either. The baby boy had swollen her belly like a pregnant ogre's, making her gain more than one hundred pounds with him. And he had been so hungry, always hungry. Her nipples ached at the memory.
It had taken Brak two years before he could walk, and he had weighed fifty pounds by then. Her poor aching back had finally felt better after those days of carrying him were over. Oddly, once he got moving he didn’t go very far, always staying near her side. It was hard though, making enough money to keep him fed and always having to find new shelter as they traveled. It was the farms that took them in and kept the boy working and corn fed. It worked out well. Despite Brak’s girth and height, he worked slowly but steadily throughout the day, as tireless as the rising suns. The other children made their fun of him until Brak popped one boy in the face. The boy didn’t wake up until the next week. After that, Brak and that boy became friends. This pattern repeated itself each time they moved on.
Brak pulled the carts, while Vorla did all of the other chores. A farm seemed like a good place to raise him as a boy, but his unnatural size always began to raise some questions. Rumors were that he was part orc or ogre, which was absurd, but even the peaceful farms had their gossiping crones. Vorla never hesitated to put them in their place, reminding them she had spent the night with all of their men a time or two. She told them she’d be happy to do it again if she had to. It shut them up.
Then it had happened, a few months ago. Brak woke up in the middle of the night shouting, “I must find my father!” Vorla calmed him down, but Brak, who slept little, did the same thing the next night and the night after that. Brak told her that his father was in danger and he had to help. It was absurd to say the least. Her son, now fourteen, didn’t have an inkling of what his father looked like. It had been a long time, and there had been many men, but Brak’s father she remembered as if she had just seen him ten minutes ago.
It was then that Brak started urging her to leave. She had no desire to leave the country and take him farther into the world out there. She had seen much of the wide world and survived, but much was lost. Brak, slow-tongued as he might have been, remained persistent. Then Vorla asked him what his father looked like, for she had never described him in the slightest detail before. She would never forget that day when he described the father he saw in his dreams.
“He’s got long hair, colored like mine. Big muscles, sometimes a happy face, and other times angry. His eyes are like blue suns. His skin is tanned like yours, Mah …”
The description was accurate, but he could have seen many men like that. It wasn’t common to see a man like that, but it wasn’t impossible, either. Of course, no one at any of the farms had matched that description. But Brak wasn’t finished.
“… and he’s got paint on his back that looks like this.” Brak held his index fingers up, forming a V in the front of her face.
They packed up and left the next day. The journey started near the Lush Lakes, to Two-Ten City, through numerous outposts and finally, the City of Bone. It didn’t make sense, but often on Bish, many things never did. Every day, Brak would tell his mother something he knew about his father, Venir. It was ridiculous, but she knew her son’s words were true. Venir was in danger, but she remembered him to be a man where peril was always near. She had always liked that about him.
She finally found a food stand and ate some cheese while watching Brak devour enough for three bellies full. He didn’t eat like he was starving; he took large bites that he slowly chewed up and swallowed down. The boy knew how to enjoy a meal. He grunted, “Mmm …Mmm …” and those sounds made her want to be a better cook. But, watching him eat was often a long endeavor. He ate jerky, sausage, gruel, biscuits and gravy, three people's worth, and he took his time. Sometimes it took him an hour to finish a meal, but sometimes that would last a whole day.
Vorla finished off her biscuit, washed it down with some sour wine, and stuffed some jerky and hard biscuits into her pack. She paid a woman and man, both dingy and peppered with flour on their arms and aprons. She wasn’t going to compliment them on the greasy food, and she didn’t give them a single coin extra. The humpbacked older woman counted out the coins in her shaking palm and dropped them in her pocket. The man, ugly and fat, stood with his hands on his hips and spat. The people in Bone were strange and uncompromising. Vorla had never felt such dark presences in the world. The people in Bone acted like you owed them for more than what you paid for. Greed. It seemed like every face she met was marked with it.
“Come on, Brak. Let’s go.”
“All right.”
It was time to get out of Bone. She considered heading to the City of Three, a place
she had heard was a much better place to be. Any place would be better than Bone, she was certain of that. In truth, she didn’t know what she was doing. She was on a mission to find a man she hadn’t seen in over a decade. She had traced him to this city. As far as she knew, he was dead, but the rogue she met may have been lying to her. She found it hard to believe that Venir wasn’t alive. He seemed too crafty to fall.
“Hey Mah, where are we going? We need to find my father. He’s in danger!”
Vorla stopped, turned, and put her hands on her son's face. Brak had the rugged features of a man, with soft skin and gentle eyes. One eye was noticeably lower than the other, and they seemed small on his over-sized head. She ran her hands over the thick patch of blond hair on the top of his head. She looked deep into his eyes, the same color of blue as Venir’s, just different. There wasn’t much else about her giant boy that resembled his father, yet Brak was who he was: the son of Venir.
“Brak, have you had any more dreams? You haven’t said much lately.”
Brak took her hand in his, looked deep into her eyes and said, “Yes.”
She got a chill. He sounded just like Venir; at least she thought he did.
“Tell me more about it then,” she said.
“Sometimes I see him, sometimes I don’t. He’s in pain, lost, angry. He fights, never really winning. I see things he sees sometimes, I think. I don’t know. Scary things, dangerous,” he said, his baritone voice started to quaver.
She hugged him and could feel his big body trembling. It hurt her that her boy was suffering alone with this. It also made her angry at Venir. For whatever reason, he was at the root of all of this. She wished Brak just didn’t care, but for some strange reason he did. He needed to find the father that he never knew.
“Brak, are you sure he is alive?”
“Yeah, Mah,” he said, nodding his head.
“All right, Boy, then we’ll keep looking. Just don’t sob anymore. Grown men don’t cry. You’re too old for that.”
The Darkslayer: Book 03 - Underling Revenge Page 14