by JD Franx
Kyah touched Kael’s arm so he stopped arguing and let her take over. “I warn you, Captain,” she said. “I am not a common bush hag, or an old hag for that matter.” She raised her head and pulled back her hood. Havarrow’s men whispered back and forth, their tone layered in fear as Kael heard the words ‘mountain witch’ and ‘demon sister’ over and over.
He could see none of it affected Kyah, as she continued, unabated. “I also promise you that my husband is no mere boy, any more than you are a mere pirate, Dominique MyrkrVatn.” She smiled as the pirate’s cheek twitched at the use of his real name. His right hand crept towards the blade on his waist while Kyah turned to Kael. “Perhaps they need a small display, my love,” she prompted. Kael nodded as he called forth a small ball of black and purple fire, doing his best to keep the dancing flames and sticky plasma from falling onto the captain’s polished wood floor.
“You see, Captain, there is a reason why my husband travels with a witch. If you know your folklore and ancient history or even your myths and legends, you will understand that most DeathWizards did. Now, I believe he was offering our help. Is your patience still at an end?” she asked, the question full of sarcasm.
Kael recalled the dark flames from his hand as Havarrow stared at Kyah, his voice escalating with his anger. “You have my attention, lass. Now, let me grab yours. The next time you or your freak husband utter a whisper that threatens my crew or my ship, all the dark powers of Hell will not walk you from my ship alive. Are we clear, witch?”
Seizing the opportunity to calm the situation without losing the pirate’s respect, Kyah replied, “We are here to offer our help, Captain, not to threaten you. My husband and I need to leave this city... by walking free from it before that idiot wizard discovers what my husband really is. Our deal with Dasal is to help you, which in turn helps us. Believe me, we are not doing this out of kindness to you or the city. This arrangement will give us both what we want. See it for what it is.”
Havarrow stood in silence for several minutes as if pondering his decision. “We’re not here looking for people who have crossed the Suns of Blood—I assume that’s what you were told? If we were and they were important enough, Captain BlackSpawn would’ve come himself with our full fleet—” he began.
Still trying to control his irritation, Kael interrupted. “It was. Why are you here then?” he asked.
“I’m sure you are well aware,” Havarrow began again. “That this city is home to the last of the northern slave auctions.”
Kael nodded, but Kyah was the one to answer. “We had the pleasure of meeting one of the owners.”
“Lircang Yorcali, I would imagine. Putrid little fat blob of shit,” Dominique cursed as he nodded. “My ship is crewed by mostly Salzaran men and women, and currently the Twilight Reave has no bounty on it, so we have been docking at the Salzaran port of Forja Vehlo where my family lives. My eighteen-year-old son lived there and took care of my daughter—she’s fourteen. Two Kariyan mercs whose lifetime contracts I held guarded them both. The last time we came to harbour, I found my son dead, their guards dead, and slavers had taken my girl. Forja Vehlo is my port, so it took less than a day to discover most of what happened. The slavers left Vehlo on the dusk tide the same day we arrived. We tracked them here; they arrived a couple days ago,” he explained.
“Of course,” Kael said, shaking his head. “They were gonna sell her in yesterday’s auction.”
Havarrow stepped towards Kael, growling with a savage ferocity that nearly made Kael drop the entire façade. “What do mean they ‘were’?” the pirate snapped. Defensive instinct kicked in and Kael’s hands flared with dark power, forcing the pirate to back up a step. With no attack pursued, both men relaxed the smallest bit.
Kael tried to explain one more time as the magic faded from his hands. “The auction was cancelled because of your presence in Fang Bay. Yorcali told us as much.” His mind a whirl of thoughts, Kael added, “Do you think he knows you’re here for your daughter?”
“No,” Havarrow snapped, still seething with anger. “But whoever his partner is likely does. Yorcali handles the auction, not the incoming slaves. It matters not. I came here to kill Yorcali and his partner. I’ll find my daughter’s buyer in their records.” With a slow nod, Kael smiled as a plan began to grow in his mind. It would need a lot of work and a lot more planning before they could pull it off.
“Let us take care of it, Captain. We’ll get her out of there. Just give us a couple days. It will save the blood shed,” Kael suggested, as he watched Havarrow pace back and forth across the cabin floor as if struggling to decide what to do.
Stopping abruptly, he turned and approached Kael. “I’ll give you ‘til noon tomorrow, then my ships enter the harbour and we come get her. If I think for even a second that you or this sleaze-ridden city is up to something, my Reavers will hit that shore and the beaches will run red,” he said as they came face to face. The beads on his kreeda clacked together as the pirate bristled with anger. “Are we clear, DeathWizard?”
“It will be close,” Kael agreed, “but it should work. How will we know your daughter? We’ll also need the names of two other people the Suns are after to give the town leaders. I can’t tell them we’re after your daughter. If Yorcali is aware of her, it’ll be over before we start.”
“You make sense, pup,” Havarrow said, finally seeming to calm a bit. “My daughter has blond hair. It was very long, but likely the slaver’s will have cut it, maybe even coloured it by now. She carries Tyr’s kiss behind her left ear.”
Once more, Kael was at a complete loss. “What the hell is a tire’s kiss?” he asked as he looked back and forth at everyone in the captain’s room.
A woman with over a dozen tattoos and short, dark hair, answered his question. “Northmen children blessed by the wargod, Tyr, are born with his mark. Shaped like a battle sword, you cannot miss it. It’s identical to mine.” Pulling her hair away from her neck, she revealed a mark on her throat shaped exactly like a great-sword. Kael nodded his thanks to the woman.
Captain Havarrow introduced her. “This is my first mate, Shasta Trey. She will have eyes and ears on you both most of the time, and she will report straight to me if you do anything stupid.” Kael shrugged as if it mattered little, but he noticed the lone kreeda sewn into the woman’s hair, giving away her Northman descent. No one had to tell him the dirty-blonde kreeda belonged to Havarrow.
“What about the names of two men we need?” Kyah asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
“The two men most wanted by the Suns are formal rivals, Hamus Stark and Keldon Ross. Both are captains, but they could be anywhere, even here, so be ready for that.” Almost as an afterthought Havarrow added, “If I find out that you tell anyone about my girl, Kael. I promise you, witch, DeathWizard or God. I. Do. Not. Care. I will find you, and you will suffer.”
Kael smiled at the idle threat and turned to leave. Havarrow might have believed it, but he knew better. Still, making enemies in Talohna just ensured you died before your time, painfully.
Looking back over his shoulder, Kael smiled. “We have no interest in betraying anyone, Captain. Let alone the Suns of Blood or your Reavers. We just want to leave this city, supplied and alive, before someone realizes what I am.”
Havarrow nodded to Shasta to show them out.
It was mid-day by the time Kael and Kyah left the Twilight Reave, so they headed straight to see Tavin for some things Kael would need for his plan. He also asked the artist if he knew the men the Suns were looking for. Tavin gave them what Kael asked for and told them both that he had never heard of Hamus or Keldon. Kyah tried to remove the markings put on her face using a paint scrub Tavin had, but to no avail. The paint had a dye in it that would have to be scrubbed off later or maybe eventually wear off. Tavin noticed her difficulty and asked them to return tomorrow and he would have a salve to remove the marks with ease. Kael smiled at her indignant frown. All things considered, she took it quite well and simply pulled h
er hood back up over her head.
Heading back to meet with the city council and their Master Wizard, Kyah and Kael crossed the market square. It was swollen with customers out shopping for the day. A young couple smiled as they strolled past, arm in arm making him smile. Covered in dark tattoos depicting skeletons and zombies, the couple reminded him of the teenagers and young adults back home who followed the goth and death metal lifestyles.
Kael’s smile quickly faded as he felt a quick bit of pressure inside his head. Frowning, he glanced at the pair and pushed back with his magic in anger. The man’s knees buckled as if they had vanished under him and he pitched forward, unconscious, his face scraping the dirt at the exact moment Kael and Kyah passed by them.
Kyah stopped to help, but Kael grabbed her arm, pulling her along. “Come on,” he whispered. “We don’t have the time, Kyah. If my plan is going to work, it must be completed before dawn, let’s go.”
“But, Kael, he’s hurt, I have to...”
He tugged her arm, gently, keeping her moving. “No, dammit,” he snapped, brooking no argument. Kyah nodded as she stared back over her shoulder. He knew she longed to help, but their priority had to be Havarrow’s daughter. Besides, had the man not pushed at him with magic, he would have been fine. Kael was sure he still would be. The nosey couple would not be using magic to discover who and what Kael was.
The couple slipped from his mind as they returned to the town leaders waiting at the city barracks.
The names and descriptions Havarrow supplied caused no warning bells to go off among the city’s leaders, so Kael and Kyah were given free rein to search the city—for men who were likely far from Dasal. Kael certainly hoped they were because they would have to make a token show of asking and looking for the men as part of their cover.
To top off a long list of growing problems, Nessedra Vantaur saw Kyah’s painted face. Kael winced as a vein throbbed in her forehead.
“What in the blazing fires of all Nine Hells are you two playing at? She could pass for a mountain witch, even fooling Ella the White if she were standing right here!”
“That was kind of the idea and it deterred any problems when we were on the pirate ship... Well, mostly.” Kael smiled sheepishly, earning a frown and a quiet prayer from the Elvehn woman.
“For the present time,” Nessedra added, “keeping her hood up should hide most of her face and the demonic markings. You don’t need to be scaring the city’s citizens. Please. We do not need to incite another lynching, do we, Lircang?”
The fat slaver shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, I assure you, Mistress Vantaur. Ah, Kael. Please, wait for me before you leave, if you will?”
“Lynching? At least we can agree there’s no need for that,” Kael muttered, shaking his head as they readied to leave the barracks.
Lircang Yorcali refused to let them leave without talking to him first. “Thank you for waiting, young man,” he said, addressing Kael, but made a blatant point of staring at Kyah. Or more correctly, at very specific locations of her body. Kael gently lifted Lircang’s chin with his finger, tilting the slaver’s head towards himself. The threat was clear, and Lircang’s quivering bottom lip let Kael know he had accomplished his goal.
“My pardon, young man,” Lircang said. Finally regaining control over himself, he cleared his throat and continued. “I was hoping you would still consider my offer to spend your evening at my establishment, to unwind and relax, of course. A gesture of my hospitality and gratitude, for helping with the pirates, you understand.” His nasal-heavy voice grated on Kael’s nerves, but as the slaver spoke, more of Kael’s plan came together. He smiled at Lircang as if the fat man was their new best friend.
“I think we just might do that, Master Yorcali. We were thinking, that if things go well here in the next day or so, my wife and I may be interested in...” Kael hesitated and looked around. Seeing no one, he carried on. “Shall we just say... Acquiring some additional help to accompany us when we leave,” he said, adding a copious amount of sleaze to his voice. Again, he looked over his shoulder, and then Yorcali’s, to see if anybody might be eavesdropping.
Lircang sneered like Kael had just granted him the keys to Paradise after a thousand year wait. “I shall inform my employees that your beautiful wife and you be permitted to see and go anywhere in my establishment that you require. Because of the postponement, the selection is rather extensive right now. Please, have an enjoyable evening at my expense. I will make sure your food and drink... And any other needs you may have will be provided free of charge, of course.” He smiled ear-to-ear. Kael’s spine twitched with disgust.
Kyah belayed any suspicions the slaver might have had by sidling up to him and trailing her fingers across his cheek. “Our thanks, Master Yorcali. I must admit, we are both looking forward to enjoying what your establishment may have to offer this night.” Lircang shivered with delight as she touched her tongue to her lips and then pecked his cheek leaving behind a trace of damp. After his eyes rolled back down from his skull, he used both trembling hands to straighten his robe, then he returned her bow and hurried away. Kael smiled at the awkward, duck-like scurrying caused from a suddenly uncomfortable fitting tunic.
Once he was out of earshot, Kyah shook her head. “I know not whether you are the smartest person I have ever known, or the dumbest. You are playing a very dangerous game with that man.”
“Lycori used to say the same thing to me all the time,” he replied.
“Only you could walk us into a trap in the exact place we need to be, on the one night we need to be there.” Kael bowed as he took her hand and started walking towards the inn and their room.
“Yorcali won’t try anything at his place, not directly,” he said. “Though, I fully expect something to happen, eventually,” he replied, as they walked the rest of the way in silence. Kael kept running his plan through his head, hoping he hadn’t overlooked anything.
Upon returning to their room, both were surprised to find their Orotaq cloaks folded neatly on the bed and a large platter of breads, cheeses, and meats, along with several bowls of fruit and nuts placed on the table. A note of thanks from Seifer Locke accompanied the food. With no time to grab a meal all day and with dusk fast approaching, Kael and Kyah carried the trays out onto the balcony and sat down to eat. Kael could not remember the last time he had eaten real food. He couldn’t stuff his mouth fast enough.
“Slow down,” Kyah said, reaching out to touch his hand. “Your plan might just work, but it will not if you are sick to your stomach all night. I know it is hard, but small pieces at a time and only one small piece of fruit.”
“I’m starving, Kyah, I haven’t had real food like this since I got here,” Kael mumbled, through a mouthful of meats, grabbing another handful from the platter.
“Stop!” she snapped, snatching his hand and offering him a small cloth. “Here, wrap some cheese and meat up in this and bring it along. Take small pieces to eat throughout the night. It will help your hunger, but you need to stop eating now. We have been on dried meat and water for weeks, and gruel for months before that. You will make yourself physically ill if you do not stop eating.”
Frowning, Kael surrendered the argument, wrapping up some sliced meat he didn’t recognize for later. “Okay, you’re right. I hate this place, too much crap happening to even eat properly the one chance in months that I actually can.”
“I know,” she said, sliding her hand up his arm and over his shoulder to the back of his neck. “But things could go very wrong before you move at dawn to finish the last of your plan, and we need to focus on that, not you heaving from stomach cramps or worse.” He could see the worry in her eyes, and not just about possible stomach problems.
“I know, but I can’t see anything else that will work to save Havarrow’s daughter, can you?” he whispered, hoping she had come up with a better idea.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Without killing many people, no. What we have will work. It is very risky, though.”
“I know.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “It is time to leave.”
They left the room a couple hours before midnight and walked down the street to Lircang Yorcali’s more prominent place of business. The slaver owned several whorehouses in Dasal, the gritty reality of a city beholden to no king or country and essentially no law. Only one of his many places of business was a club-like establishment that catered to wealthy customers.
Leaving the lobby of the inn, Kyah pulled the hood of her Orotaq cloak up onto her head and shivered in the cooler night air that blew in off the bay. Noticing, Kael wrapped his arm around her and smiled. Lircang’s business was located in a fancy two-storey building, easily twice the size of the inn, but a ten minute walk to Dasal’s business district. A sign hung from an iron arch above the door. The symbol of a nude dancing girl had been burnt into the wood below the name, The Far Exotic. One of the two guards at the door asked for their names and then asked them to follow him inside.
The door guard led them through the main floor and around an island bar in the centre that was busy with customers. Round, heavy, wooden tables were spaced evenly about the remaining section of the lower main level. All of the tables were occupied, and several had young women dancing on top with little to no clothing left on. Kael stared in disgust as every so often, the women would leave with someone at their table and head upstairs to where he assumed Lircang supplied private rooms. Coming from a world and existence where such a thing was illegal in most western countries, it was hard for Kael to stomach. Breathing slow and easy, he tried to strengthen himself for what had to be done.
The main floor of The Far Exotic was circled by a raised, second tier six feet higher than the main floor. The guard escorted Kael and Kyah to a private booth on this raised level that allowed them to overlook the entirety of the main floor. Once seated, a young girl of no more than sixteen, dressed in a delicate, chained waist-belt with three foot lengths of cloth hanging from the front and back, approached their table. Adjusting her white velvet top to reveal more cleavage, she bowed before making introductions.