After many moments a flushed looking serving waitress balancing many mugs of ale upon a tray swept speedily up to our table.
“How much for your ale?” I enquired as her gaze met mine.
A smile spread across enticing lips.
“A silver penny each kind sir.” She leant a little closer with her free hand resting on the table, deliberately exposing her cleavage as she bent.
“We’ll take two,” ordered Baram upon hearing him searching through his purse.
“We’ll take the lot,” I requested, and I kept her gaze within my own whilst throwing a gold coin upon the table.
The girl brought the tray of ale expertly down and placed it before us. There were at least eight or nine large murky mugs of thick brown ale placed upon the tray.
Amongst a few angry muttering from those still thirsty around us, I slipped another gold coin between her slender fingers. “And something for your troubles,” I added with a smile.
The young girl’s face lit up at the sight of the coin within her grasp. With one swift motion, the young beauty snatched up the coin and deposited it into a hidden pouch between her breasts.
“Thank you, good sir,” came the happy reply.
“Anything you want…anything at all,” she purred, “just ask for Tambia.”
With a wink and a wave, she spun around and vanished back into the crowds.
I glanced to Baram who was shaking his head as he reached for the brew.
“Same old Taragon,” he said scornfully. “You’ll never change will you?”
“Well, look on the bright side my good friend. We’ll never have to wait for ale in this place again,” I smiled.
“Taragon, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Baram had a serious look about him as he handed me a mug of ale.
“Ask away...” I offered.
“Well I’ve been thinking of late, and…well…it’s just….”
“Come on man get it off your chest,” I hurried.
“Well, I have been thinking, and I want to go with you on this mission of yours. There I said it!”
For the second time that night I nearly choked on my ale. Placing the mug back upon the table I looked at him with genuine surprise.
“Baram, you’re serious aren’t you.”
Baram replied with a firm nod. “I am.”
“This will be no walk through the streets of Ranak-lore I’m taking here. It’s likely to be dangerous. I’m not even certain I’ll be able to vouch for my own safety let alone yours.”
“Then there’s more the reason to have my battleaxe by your side,” he said in stubborn tones.
“But what of your life here, and of Kendra?” I asked to dissuade the big man.
“It’s because of Kendra and the City that I want to come. I’ve been here for the past two years Taragon, and all I have talked about is our travels that we used to share. I long for the open road and the fire of adventure that used to stir in my blood.”
Baram stared into his mug as his large hands closed tightly around it.
“And as for Kendra, I do love her dearly, but I need to do this before… Before I become her husband, I need to come with you Taragon. It’s just that I’ve been feeling a little trapped here in this City of late, especially now they have built that damned wall. Do you know that I haven’t even been outside the City gates for the past three months!” he said passionately.
“Just one more final journey before I settle… I need to Taragon....”
I was not expecting this of Baram, he had seemed so happy with his life here in the City; he had a home, a job, friends and a future wife to love. Everything he ever wanted was in Ranak-Lore. Although I understood his feelings, the lure of what was around the next corner never kept me still in one place for long. Ever since I was little, it was always a strong attraction to me to find what may lie over the next hill.
What else could I say but yes?
“If it’s what you want, then it’s what you shall have. I’ll be happy to have your steel by my side…although you may want to keep it near you for your own protection when you tell that woman of yours.”
Baram looked up from his ale, an enormous broad grin exploded onto his face.
“By Thundar’s Hammer, we’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” He continued to smile as he passed me another ale. “Taragon and Baram back on the open road again!”
“To the open road,” he toasted happily.
“The open road,” I joined.
The night drew on as we recalled past events with fond memories shared. The tavern’s patrons came and went of their own accord, all except for one man who had to be expertly thrown out into the street by the hand of the burly Barkeep for drunkenly insulting the party of Galvians. The Galvians had stood as still as stone whilst watching the sad drunken man hurl volleys of abuse in their direction. At one point though I did see one of the younger Galvians make a move to approach the fool after a particularly nasty insult upon their race, another more senior Galvian had intervened with the raising of his hand and a discreet shake of the head to stop any further confrontation. Since then the experience of the barkeep had put things back in order, he even plied the Galvians with some free ale to make up for their troubles, and now everything was back to its normal, rowdy, nightly atmosphere.
Looking around I noticed a dice game was starting to get underway with two men who had seated themselves at a table not far from ours.
The sound of the dice called out to me as plainly as someone calling my name as the men passed coins between themselves upon their outcome. I found my gaze unmoving as I watched the dice on their journey across the table. The clink, clink, sound of coin upon coin was like music to my ears and an attraction that I could no longer deny.
Beguiled and transfixed, there was nothing else for it as the last of my willpower abandoned me to my own devices.
“If you’ll excuse me Baram,” I said, upon rising from my chair.
The four mugs of strong ale I had consumed so far rested merrily inside me, and I found my legs just a little uncoordinated as I made my way to the lure of the game.
“Gentlemen,” I introduced myself with a small bow as I stood before their table.
“Would it be fitting for me to join in on your game?” I asked. The two men looked up from where they sat.
“If you wish,” responded the gruff sounding man on the left. He was older than his companion and wore a large white beard upon his weather-beaten face. He reminded me of an old sailor I once knew, but he didn’t have the look of a sea about him.
“Barkeeper’s dice?” I enquired.
“Of course!” The bearded fellow replied as he threw the dice upon the table again.
Barkeeper’s dice just meant that the dice belonged to the landlord of the establishment and had to be asked for across the bar, the dice were then accepted as trustworthy. This rule prevented the many arguments and fights that used to occur, some of which often ended in a fatality by men playing the game with their own dubious dice.
“What do we play for, Gold or Silver?
“Gold is in short supply at this table friend,” snorted the rough looking companion.
“What a pity,” I returned as I noticed the small piles of bronze coins that were stacked meagrely in front of each of them.
“I have gold, and am in need of a game,” came a cool sounding voice to my left.
Turning to look at its owner, I saw that it belonged to a Forest Ranger by first appearance.
The man was dressed in brown muddy boots and wore leather hide trousers. His entire upper body was covered with a long hooded cloak of forest green. The hood was pulled over his head and stopped just above his eyes which glittered coldly in the dim light. He grinned a smile from the confines of his hood. The rest of his facial features remained concealed by the shadows of his garment.
Not very tall in stature, he must have measured only to my chin in height. I noticed the shaft of the Longbow he carried pro
truding from behind his back.
“That’s if you will chance with a Ranger?” the man said gracefully as he swept his hand before him.
“I will chance with anyone,” I smiled in return.
I could smell the earth upon his clothing as we seated ourselves at the table.
“How about a game of Demon Dice?” I casually asked, hoping that he would accept. It was a game that I had won much coin with in the past, and besides it seemed entirely appropriate at the time as well.
The Ranger nodded his acceptance as he passed the dice to me.
“Please, throw first if you will,” he offered in a polite gesture.
Demon Dice was quite a simple game. Basically, you would throw six dice at the start to determine the strength of your Demon. Then you and your opponent would throw one dice each per turn to establish how much strength your opponent’s demon would lose. The winner was simply the first to reduce his challenger’s demon’s strength to zero.
I lost the first two games, along with five gold pieces…
My frustration remained hidden as I tried hard to concentrate. The strong ale flowing in my veins did little to clear my thoughts.
The Ranger added to my irritation by gently leaning back into his chair, whilst flipping one of my coins he had won playfully through his open fingers.
“Double or quits?” he smiled, as he placed the gold coin on the table in front of him.
Who did this guy think he was…me? This is just the sort of thing I would do. It generally angered your opponent into making another gamble and therefore another mistake, and worse it worked.
“Of course!” I snapped “If you are sure you can afford to lose?” I added with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh I can afford to, thanks to your coin,” he returned calmly.
“For ten gold each then!” I said through clenched teeth.
The Ranger nodded as he pushed the required amount into the table’s centre and then waited until I had done the same.
Twenty gold pieces were in a heap upon the table before me. A small crowd had gathered around us at the sight of all the gold we played for. Even the two men I had approached earlier had stopped their game and now watched ours with interest. Baram was there also, standing at the crowd’s edge peering over at the table whilst shaking his head in the process. He had never approved of gambling and generally frowned on those who indulged.
The game had started, and I concentrated hard. The Ranger’s hand moved fast as he swept it down, collected the dice, and threw them back upon the table in one fluid movement. But the game seemed to be finally going my way. As we got to the last few dice throws, I needed a four to win.
I collected the dice and looked at my opponent. He was leant back into his chair, with his fingers linked together resting his hands in this position just under his chin. Not moving at all, he seemed to be watching me rather than concentrating on the game.
I rolled the dice...a three! Damn!
I swallowed hard. I needed just one to win, but the turn had passed to the Ranger. He needed a five. The odds were in my favour, and I started saying silent prayers to any Gods that cared to listen.
Clutching the dice in his hand, he smiled as he threw them upon the table, his eyes never averted from mine as the dice rolled to a stop.
A six! More than enough.
My frustration boiled over, and I swore a curse as he collected his winnings. Some of the crowd cheered and patted the Ranger’s back at his good fortune, whilst others had words of condolence to me that I did not hear.
I stood as the Ranger stood.
“Lady luck favours you today, but next time she’ll be smiling my way,” I said whilst doing my best to hide my frustration.
The Ranger glared at me from within his dark concealment. What could be seen of his face was cold and unreadable. We stood there for what seemed like ages looking at each other unmoving. It reminded me of the standoff I had shared with the Fangore.
I found myself feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
“I hope not Mr Stein,” he answered coldly, and with that turned swiftly and made his way to the tavern's door.
Baram walked to my side bearing two mugs of ale. Handing me one of the mugs, he shook his head as he did.
“Hard luck Taragon,” he said in sympathetic comfort.
“Bah! He had the luck of Kanthar with him tonight,” I snapped back bitterly.
“Well your coin won’t last long if you keep throwing it away like that,” he warned.
“It never does.” I grinned back, my thoughts now returning to the present.
Raising the mug to my lips, I drank deeply in bitter defeat just before I spat the ale from my mouth, half covering Baram in the process.
“By the Gods Baram!” I shouted.
“What is it?” he asked as he quickly, whilst looking around as if to spot some impending danger.
“I didn’t tell him my name!”
Baram insisted that I must have mentioned my name to the Ranger at some point in the night. It vexed me so that I tried to recall every word I had spoken to the hooded stranger. People came and went, and the ale continued to flow freely. Baram drank merrily, but I was more reserved in my consumption as my mood was now dark, my thoughts even darker.
“Perhaps he recognises you from the stories I have told,” said Baram at one point.
“Perhaps?” I had replied, and I generally began to feel a little better over my paranoia.
Giving the matter little more attention, I turned towards my friend who at this point had joined in on a drunken drinking song with a party of inebriated mountaineering men.
By the time we finally left the tavern, the ale stains I had made on Baram’s shirt had been mixed in with lots of his own making, this at least made me feel a little better about staining his shirt in the first place. With the sobering night air whipping about us to chill our bones, we started our journey back through the moonlit streets of Ranak-Lore towards Baram’s home.
The journey, however, was taking longer than I had anticipated, partly because I had to support the weaponsmith’s weight for fear of him falling, as I was not confident in my abilities to get his huge bulk moving again if he did.
Secondly, Baram had insisted on teaching me the two new drinking songs he had learnt that night. Once satisfied that I could repeat some of the verses and was able to join in on the chorus, he then proceeded to re-enact the entire battle of Hillstone Pass, a battle of some six thousand men all by himself, that was until he met the King of the Northern Jarrar tribe, and died a horrible death at the foot of somebody’s front door!
After much commotion and much passing of time, we finally arrived at Baram’s home.
“Shhhhh, we mustn’t make a sound!” warned the intoxicated weaponsmith as he opened the door, tripped on his first step, and crashed with an almighty thud face down upon the wooden flooring!
Kendra materialised from behind the door in the far wall.
“Hatto dear,” slurred Baram as he lifted his head only to let it fall again with another thud.
Kendra came running to his side. She was dressed in her nightclothes which consisted of a long gown of thick white cotton. It was obvious to my eyes that she wore nothing underneath.
“Here, help me to lift him,” she said as she knelt beside him whilst taking hold of one of his arms.
Grabbing the other we then proceeded to half lift, and half drag the heavy bulk of his frame through the door that led to their bedroom. The bed immediately protested under the weaponsmith's weight as we rolled the big man upon it.
“Oh, that shirt!” Kendra huffed as she eyed the now unrecognisable garment.
“There will be words to be had when he wakes,” she warned.
Standing in front of the moonlit window her body could now clearly be seen, the light silhouetted her form perfectly from under her cotton gown. I averted my eyes from her as I twice reminded myself that Baram was my friend.
“He’s a good man,” I said,
out of a need for something to say.
Kendra’s eyes went to the sleeping form of her intended.
“Yes he is,” she said with fondness, “he is very fond of you too,” she added
“He speaks of you as if a brother.” I just nodded an answer as I looked once more at the sleeping giant.
Her gaze returned to me.
“I have made a bed for you in the corner of the next room. I guessed you would return.” She smiled.
“Then I will leave you to yours.” I bowed.
Turning around I closed the door behind me as I entered the main room.
My blood had been stirred at the sight of Kendra, and I thought briefly about returning to the SunBud Tree in search of the comforts from Tambia. But the lure of the pile of soft furs in the corner won me over, and I gave into my weary bones before collapsing upon the soft, supple furs to drift off into blissful sleep...
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of a thunderous argument!
“…and that shirt! It’s ruined now,” Screamed an angry sounding Kendra from behind the closed door, “ it will never be the same again!”
“But honestly I don’t know how?” came the muffled reply.
“Go on, get out whilst I clean these bed sheets. They look as bad as your shirt!” This was followed by the sounds of something heavy landing on the floor.
“Ouch! You didn’t have to do that!”
“Out!” Screamed Kendra’s voice once again.
The door opened, and out stepped a bedraggled looking Baram.
“Morning Taragon.” he smiled “How are you?”
“Better than you by the looks… and sounds of it,” I mocked.
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 10