by Robert Beers
“An’ this is the window I toldjer about, fine view here, fine view.” The Innkeeper waved a hand at the old battered window. It was of the country style, built of nine six-inch bubble strewn glass panes fitted into a wooden frame and puttied from the backside. Small copper staples insured the panes stayed put in those of better make. This was not one of them.
“It's fine for our needs master Hildegren. You don't have to show us any more,” Adam held out a silver for the Innkeeper to take.
“Are you sure milord? I haven't pointed out this fine Goosedown bed here, an’ covered in me own mum's quilt too,” In spite of his supposed concern the Innkeeper made the coin vanish.
Thaylli was going to make sure that quilt received a thread-by-thread inspection for lice and other vermin, and if that mattress was stuffed with down, she deposited gold into the chamber pot each morning.
Adam threw his pack onto the bed. Dust puffed into the air of the room. “I'm sure master Hildegren, please leave us now.”
The Innkeeper backed out of the room bobbing his head. Thaylli closed the door after him and had to push it a bit to get the latch to take. “Why did you choose this pigsty? There's got to be at least one Inn or boarding house in this city we can afford besides this place.”
“I know there is, at least three in this section of the city alone.”
“Then why this one?” Thaylli's voice climbed into the higher registers.
“Because it's one place Milward would never look into. He's sure to try to get me back into whatever course of study he thinks I have to do before anything else and I'm not going to let that happen. What he thinks my destiny is, and what I need to do look like they're two different things these days. After Grisham is finished with this crisis I'm going to find Charity.”
“Your ... sister, right?”
Adam nodded and sat down on the bed next to his pack. “My twin sister, I told you about her back in Access, remember? I've tried using my magik to find her and just like what happens when Milward tries, something is keeping me from being able to lock in on her. I know she's alive and well, but that's all.”
“Well, that's good isn't it?” Thaylli sat on the bed next to Adam and placed her hands in her lap.
“I suppose so, but there's something else. It's just a feeling, but I've learned over the past months to trust them better than my eyes. Milward doesn't know this and I think because I'm magik and Charity isn't, he never considered it. The other feeling I get is that whatever it is Labad's prophecy wants me to do has to be done by both of us, otherwise it won't get done.” He looked Thaylli in the eye, “That means in order to fulfill this destiny of mine I've got to find her.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Then you'll find her.”
He blinked. “As simple as that?”
Thaylli stood back up and busied herself with unpacking. “Of course silly. I overheard Westcott and the old Wizard talking one night. You were the main topic of course. It seems they think you're one of those hubs history turns on. Anyway, I didn't understand most of what they said, but I did get one thing out of it.”
“And...” Adam prompted her.
“And,” she continued, “If something needs to happen for you to get to wherever you need to be, it will, period.”
Adam wished he were as confident about his future. Unfortunately he felt like a straw in the wind when it came to plotting out his life's course. He was lucky to still be alive as far as he was concerned.
Reaching out, he pulled a spare cloak out of the pack and helped Thaylli finish up. “I want to go over to the Grisham barracks when we're done here. You know, to kind of look it over and see where things stand. I also think the extra coins wouldn't hurt.”
Thaylli nodded, but she seemed distracted. “You do that, I think I'll stay here. This place may have possibilities if some elbow grease were put to it. I'll need some coins for a few things.”
“How many?” Adam could see where the extra money from helping Bilardi was definitely going to come in handy.
She looked at the ceiling and thought a moment, “Umm ... could you spare three?”
“Three coppers?” Maybe he'd get out of this with most of their coin intact after all.
Thaylli laughed dashing Adam's hopes of a frugal shopping trip, “No silly, three golds. You may be satisfied with the insides of this place looking as bad as the outsides, but I can't be. It's going to take a lot of work and I'll need some things to work with. You see?”
Adam sighed. That would leave him with one gold, two silvers and a small handful of coppers. Money seemed to leave his hands far faster than it flowed into them. “I see I'm going to have to ask for an advance.” He pulled the golds out of his belt pouch and dropped them into Thaylli's outstretched hand.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “You do that. Run along now and play with your soldiers. I'll see to the fixing up of this room.”
Grisham's officer quarters were housed in a large inn-like building nestled against the inner wall of the militia's compound. Three stories high, the top level was reserved for senior officers and their families, the second, for mid-level and of course the ground floor for those of junior status. The senior officers quarters was divided into three room suites, whereas the first and second floors were dormer style with a hallway running the length of the building.
Between the officers quarters and the enlisted barracks stood the armory with the Sergeant's offices on either side. At the far end of the enlisted barracks were the stables with the enlarged closets that housed the stable boys snug against the tack rooms. An open area used for parades and drill lay between the barracks and the administration building.
Adam chose their Inn not only because of its rundown condition but because it sat just a few streets away from the militia compound. The neighborhood matched the Inn in many aspects. A large number of the folk living there had the same look as the Inn, somewhat rumpled and in need of repair. A few of them were of a more dangerous type, Garlocs circling a wounded prey. They stood at the street corners, leaning against the dingy walls and watched those who passed by with hooded eyes. One of them was out when Adam left the Inn and considered following until they passed a convenient alley but he quickly changed his mind at the sight of the sword belted to the young man's hip.
Two streets away from the militia compound the look of the city changed to that of a more affluent style. Shops, pubs and eateries catering to the free-spending members of the City Watch and other employees of the militia compound lined the streets surrounding it. Many of them boasted window boxes filled with flowers and the pubs all kept a water trough for the benefit of their patrons horses.
He walked past the shops quickly, acutely feeling the lightness of his purse. Adam hoped the Guard Captain had means and opportunity to come up with a few coins at least.
The guard at the gates had no idea who he was and showed little inclination to ask. “Never heard o’ ya an’ if ya ain't got no pass ya ain't getting’ in. Them's the rules, no ‘ceptions.”
“Can't you just send a message to Captain Bilardi? That would solve everything.” Adam's frustration was beginning to build at the guard's stubbornness.
“What? An’ leave me post?” The guard looked aghast. “You want me head put atop one o’ those pikes?” The Sergeant pointed upwards to a series of pointed iron shafts jutting from the top of the compound wall.
Adam counted slowly backwards from three and tried again, “Of course not. I was thinking if you called over one of those guardsmen passing by over there, they could take a message to the Captain's office and you'd find out I was expected.”
The guard's grin showed a malicious streak, “Now why would I wanna go an’ do somethin’ like that? I'm comfortable right here, gotta bit o’ shade over me head an’ I kin even keep goobers like you outta me compound.”
“And what'll happen to your nice comfortable post if what I'm telling you is true? Is Captain Bilardi that forgiving of a man that you'll r
isk his displeasure just for a bit of sadistic fun?” Adam looked at the Guard Sergeant out of the corner of his eye. The man's expression had changed to one of uncertainty. He worked at capitalizing on that, “What do you think he'll do to someone who keeps him from an appointment he's worked hard at setting up?” He added a small bit of influential magik to his words.
The hesitation from the guard Sergeant increased. Adam decided to try one last tactic, “What do you think he'd do for a man who helped him to make that appointment?”
A look of cunning replaced the uncertainty and Adam knew he'd struck gold. He pursued the point, “Why he might even promote that man another jump in grade, maybe even put a nice bonus in his next purse.”
A man of dim prospects and even dimmer wits, the guard muttered half to himself, “Aye, he might at that.” He looked back at Adam from beneath his overgrown brows, “Tell ya what me bucko, since I'm a generous man by nature I'll put me neck on th’ line an’ check on yer story, just in case th’ Cap'n might be wantin’ a meetin’ wit'cher. Whatcha say?”
Adam looked around, checking over each shoulder. So far no one else from the surrounding neighborhoods seemed to have any business at the compound. At least none of them were heading towards the gate. He turned his attention back to the guard and nodded, “I'll wait here, just to be sure you don't get in trouble.” Flies and honey, he thought.
The Guard Sergeant's face lit up in a homely grin, “Hey, that's right nice of yer, thanks bud.” He turned on his heel and ambled off in the direction of the Administration building.
A couple of minutes after the Sergeant entered the Admin building's door, it burst open, a youthful looking guard came sprinting out and continued his dash all the way to the gate. “Milord!” He paused to catch his breath, “Are you by any chance the swordmaster the Captain spoke to in a certain inn?”
“I guess so,” Adam shrugged.
“If you please, Milord,” The young guardsman, he couldn't have been past fifteen, Adam thought, beckoned urgently, “Milord Captain greatly desires to have you grace him in his office, Milord?”
Adam smiled, “One Milord is plenty, guardsman. I feel a little overwhelmed with three of them in one mouthful.” The youngster reminded him of Felsten, the Librarian's assistant. “Please, go on back to your duties. I'll be right behind you.”
“Yes Mi ... yes sir!” The guardsman executed a smart about face and began briskly marching back to the Admin building with Adam right behind him as promised.
A few guardsmen in the compound yard briefly looked their way as Adam and his youthful guide made their way across to the steps leading up to the building's front door.
Captain Bilardi stood waiting for him as he entered the door. “It is you, my young swordmaster, Adam, correct?” He held out his hand for Adam to take. The guard Sergeant was nowhere to be seen.
“You remember my name,” Adam took the proffered hand and returned the Captain's grip with equal pressure.
For a second it seemed as if Bilardi was testing who had the greater strength and then he released his grip, “Yes, the hand of a swordsman. One can always tell.” He flashed one of his engaging smiles, “Of course I remember your name. Is there anyway I could forget the man who handled six of my guards at one time? Come; allow me to show you around my own personal kingdom.”
He led Adam on a tour of the grounds beginning at the stables where he showed off his prize stallion. Adam had to admit the animal was magnificent, the horse rippled with strength and his black coat shone with vibrant health. The stallion tossed his head as Bilardi approached and wuffed.
The Guard Captain reached into his pouch. “He's expecting a treat. I always try to have a bit of something for him whenever I visit.” The horse took the treat out of Bilardi's hand.
“He's beautiful,” Adam reached out and stroked the horse's neck.
Bilardi nodded approvingly. “He likes you, that's a good sign. If he didn't, you would be missing a chunk out of your arm.”
“He's still a beautiful animal.” Adam patted the stallion's neck and then stepped back from the stall. “What's his name?”
“Hearthrust, I named him after a fencing move. An appropriate appellation I believe.”
Adam shrugged. “I wouldn't know. I don't know any fencing moves, not the names anyway.”
“Surely you're having a bit of fun at my expense,” The Captain stopped still in his walk to the stable door. “En garde, riposte, parry, thrust, surely these are as familiar to you as breathing water is to a fish. Though I must admit, Hearthrust is a rather obscure one.”
“No, not really, I think I might have heard them mentioned before, but I couldn't tell you when or where.”
Bilardi nearly gaped at Adam, “Who taught you the Art then? As I said at the Inn, surely it couldn't have been that old fossil; I mean he barely impressed me as a Wizard.”
Adam gave his host a flat stare, “Whatever I may be feeling about Milward is my business, Captain. I'll allow no disparaging of him while I'm able to defend his honor. You would be wise to apologize.”
For a brief instant it looked as though the Captain was about to answer Adam's challenge, but then he bowed his head, “Of course my Lord, it was wrong of me. I do beg your forgiveness.”
“Good,” Adam removed his hand from the hilt of his sword, “I'd hate to mess up this nice clean stable.”
He was joking, but the look of Bilardi's face said he took it another way entirely. “Do not think me that easy of an opponent my Lord Swordmaster. I would give a fair account of myself regardless of the outcome.”
“That was a jest Captain,” Adam replied. “I was trying to lighten the moment.”
“Ah, yes,” Bilardi laughed uproariously, “a good one. Capital jest indeed, caught me entirely by surprise, it did. Come. Let's see the rest of the compound.”
He was still chuckling as he led Adam out of the stables.
“Captain in the house!” A number of voices shouted out the call to attention as Bilardi and Adam stepped into the enlisted barracks. To Adam's eyes, it looked rather stark. Six rows of cots ran the length of the room with no walls separating them. Three sets of squared-off pillars supported the ceiling, two on either end and two in the middle. The men that were in the room at the time they arrived were now standing at rigid attention, each of them at the foot of a cot. They were in a variety of stages of dress, many of them just wearing their undergarments and jerkin, some wearing only the undergarments.
Bilardi indicated the room with a wave of his hand, “The muscle and bone of the Grisham City Guard, at rest as you see.”
He stepped over to the middle aisle in the room and began walking slowly down it with both hands clasped behind his back.
Adam was treated to a running commentary as he followed the Captain through the barracks.
“Yes, by Bardoc's beard, these are the finest men in the city. You see Adam? Even half-clothed they show the discipline that has built them into a fighting unit to be feared.”
“Good man Geddrik, nice tight cot there.”
“See those toes Swordmaster? Not a one out of place.”
“Suck in that belly Hubbord, good man. Try eating less sausage in breaking your fast, eh?”
“Show me that short sword there. Yes, as I thought, sharp enough to shave with.”
“If you're going to grow a moustache, try some fertilizer or wait a couple of years lad. That looks like a caterpillar died on your lip.”
“Hoskines. How's that leg of yours coming along, no sign of corruption? Good.”
“Sergeant Folistor, you still here? I thought you'd retired.” Bilardi stopped in front of a gray-haired, sturdy looking guard who was one of the few fully dressed men in the barracks. Tattoos fought for space with the corded muscles on his forearms.
The Sergeant somehow managed to stand even straighter. “Wouldn't think of it sir!”
“But you've got in thirty years already. Don't you feel like taking it easy, enjoying your senior years?�
� His Captain pressed the issue.
“S’ problem right there Cap'n, been a guard too long. Would'n know whut ta do wif meself otherwise. Ain't no good at nuffin else. Cain't cook worth a damn, cain't garden, ain't no good at jest sittin'. Iffn’ it pleases yer Lordship, Cap'n, I'd druther stay right here. Someone's gotta look after th’ kids.”
Bilardi clapped Folistor on the shoulder. “Very well Sergeant, a commander would be a fool to not see the value in a man of your stripe. As far as I'm concerned the barracks is your home for as long as you want it. You can die here if you like.”
The Sergeant knuckled his forehead. “Thank'ee Cap'n, I'm much obliged sir, much obliged.”
Adam waited until they were outside of the barracks before he asked Bilardi his question, “What's between you and that Sergeant?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Correct me if I misunderstood what I saw,” Adam used a small part of the power to act as a truth sensor, “but it looked to me that there was a kind of connection between you and that old Sergeant. Did he save your life some time in the past?”
The magik told Adam he'd struck the mark. Bilardi shrugged, “I see no reason why I should hide the knowledge. Sergeant Folistor did indeed save my life, a couple of times, in fact. The first was when I was a young recruit, eager to please my superiors and far too ready to take chances. I was chasing a thief through the streets and didn't realize I'd chased him right into the Lowers until it was too late.”
“The Lowers?”
Bilardi shrugged again. “Like all large cities Grisham has areas where like attracts like. For example, in Temple Hill you've got to be of the merchant class and wealthy to live there. They've got their own special watch and you'd better have a good reason to be up there. Over in Cliffside the ship owners live. Some of them have near as much gold as those on the hill but they wouldn't be caught dead up on the heights. Then there are the Lowers, polite people don't go in there, flick, even moderately bad people don't go in there. They'd be skinned, plucked and put up to dry before they had a chance to realize their mistake. The same one I'd just made.”