by Jenner, M
The old man retrieved a leather bag from his pocket and handed it to Kern. “There you are.”
Kern moved to toss the bag to Ty, still holding the dagger in his other hand.
“NO! Don’t throw it!” Pedlyn shouted in alarm.
“More eggs?” Kern said.
“Not eggs, but just as fragile. It’s glass.”
Kern passed the pouch to Ty with a sharp nod. He kept a suspicious eye on their elderly visitor as Ty opened the bag. Inside were nestled three glass vials, cushioned in cotton. Ty held them out carefully for Kern’s inspection. “And these are?” Kern asked.
“Disguise potions,” Pedlyn said.
“So you have… taken one?” Galandrik said, leaning forward and looking closely at the old man.
“No, he aged forty years since last night,” Ty quipped.
“I see some things don’t change, then,” Pedlyn replied. “Yes, Gal, I’ve taken one. They last for anywhere from one to three hours; there’s no way to know exactly how long the disguise will last so make your escape and be quick about it,” he explained. “Now I must leave you again, before mine runs out,” he said, turning to Ty “Thank you very much, but we cannot pay you,” Ty said, tapping his pockets to indicate his lack of coinage.
“You saved my life twice – consider it partial repayment.”
“You are very kind. I do have one question,” Ty began.
“Yes, friend?”
“What do we get disguised as?” Ty asked.
“It’s random; some are better than others,” Pedlyn said with a cheeky smile. After a last quick round of thanks from everyone, he was gone.
They took turns washing as best they could in the little corner sink. After Ty fed Sleeper the last mouse, he placed the dragon in the backpack, which was now well-padded with bedding Ty had bought in the market.
“Shall we do the potions now?” Kern asked when they were all ready.
“I think we can make it to the stables without being seen,” Galandrik answered. “We’d better make every minute count, in case the potions wear off sooner rather than later.”
“Point taken.” Kern replied.
Then they gathered up their new equipment and crept down into the stables, dodging all passers-by and keeping their cloak hoods up. Once they were safely in the stable, Ty shifted some loose hay and uncovered Galandrik’s axe and Kern’s sword.
“Where did you find these?” Galandrik said, looking his axe up and down with a loving gaze.
“I had a little go last night back through the sewers; I knew all the guards would be out in the town. Where did you think I got the gold for the horses?” Ty explained.
“Thanks again,” Kern said, slipping his sword into its sheath.
They quickly got acquainted with their new horses and saddled up inside the stable, not wanting to risk the exposure of the stableyard. Once mounted, they each uncapped one of Pedlyn’s glass vials, then counted to three and drank. Ty swallowed his down and opened his eyes; in front of him were the two horses, but in their saddles were now a young elf and old human. He laughed and said, “Look at you two!”
Kern looked at Galandrik and said, “You’re an elf.”
“And you’re an old man – why’d I have to be a bloody elf!” Galandrik exclaimed, feeling for his beard which wasn’t there.
Ty was still chuckling, and Kern said, “Before you laugh at us, take a look at yourself.” Kern smiled at Galandrik.
Ty looked down at his hands; they looked rather feminine, he thought. “No, please don’t say…” He jumped from his horse and ran over to the horse trough. He leaned over to look at his reflection in the water, and staring back at him was a beautiful young human girl.
He turned to look at the others, stunned. “I don’t believe this,” he said, his voice getting higher-pitched with each word. He looked down at his slender form, dressed in light green leather amour. Then he noticed his breasts, and raised both hands.
“Don’t even think about it!” Kern laughed.
“What?” Ty answered, dropping both hands quickly and jumping back up onto his mount. His face was beginning to turn red. “I was just going to… adjust myself.”
Kern and Galandrik’s belly-laughs echoed around the stables.
Soon all three were riding through the town; the gate was only five minutes away. Guards patrolled the streets and they could see carts being stopped, barrels ripped open and hay being pierced with swords and pikes in search of any hidden, living, cargo. “I think we are being sought,” Kern whispered as they rode.
“I think you are right,” Galandrik added.
Then, “I don’t believe this!” Kern said angrily.
“What?” Galandrik asked.
“There, over there, sitting outside that inn. That’s that bastard who broke my nose!” Kern spat.
“Bok,” Ty said, grinning.
“Yes, bloody Bok,” Kern replied.
“How long we got?” Ty asked.
“Enough time for him, I think,” Galandrik said.
“Let me,” Ty said, jumping down from his horse and awkwardly fluffing his new chestnut curls. He passed the reins to Kern, “Meet me over there in ten,” he said, turning.
“But… I wanted…” Kern sputtered.
“Okay then, follow me when I move,” Ty said over his shoulder.
Soon Ty was just a few feet away from where Bok sat. As he passed Bok’s table, Ty deliberately nudged the table with one shapely hip as he passed. Bok looked up and smiled at the lovely young woman passing by. The “lovely young woman” – Ty – smiled back coyly, then winked and carried on into the Inn. Within seconds Bok was standing next to Ty.
“Well hello there,” Bok said. “Can I get this round?”
“Oh! Most certainly,” Ty said, acting tipsy. The barman put two jugs of ale on the bar and Bok picked them both up, throwing some coinage on the bar.
“Outside?” he suggested, and Ty nodded. “What’s your name, my dear?” Bok asked over his shoulder.
Ty felt a stab of panic; he hadn’t thought this far ahead. He blurted the first name that came to his mind: “It’s Ty..la! Tyla. How do you do?”
After the formal introductions they were soon chatting companionably at their outdoors table. Bok explained that he was a bounty hunter travelling the land, and Ty did his best to look appropriately impressed. Twenty minutes and two flagons of ale later, Ty asked, “So are you staying here?”
“Yes, for now. I’m searching for someone very dangerous at the moment, and will be moving on soon.”
Ty chuckled to himself at the blatant lies, but carried on looking impressed. “What are the rooms like?” he asked.
“They are all right. Nothing special – I have had better,” Bok replied, missing the point.
“You could show me?” Ty asked with a smile.
Bok looked up with bright eyes, and Ty knew the penny had dropped. “Yes, I… ok… let’s…” he babbled.
“What room are you in?” Ty asked.
“Number forty-four.”
“Well, why don’t you go ahead and take some ale up, and I’ll follow in two minutes.”
“Great! See you soon,” Bok said, and skipped past the innkeeper, tossing a silver piece onto the bar top as he went.
As Ty walked past Kern and Galandrik, who had taken a table at the edge of the outdoors seating area, he whispered “Room forty-four, five minutes.”
Standing outside the door to room forty-four, Ty knocked twice.
“Yes?” Bok called from within.
“It’s Tyla,” he answered in what he hoped was a seductive tone.
“Come in.” Ty opened the door to see all Bok’s worldly goods lying on a chair, while Bok lay in the bed.
“Get up, honey,” Ty commanded in a sultry voice, and Bok climbed out of the bed in all his naked glory. “Now shut your eyes. I have a surprise, something you’re going to like,” Ty said in a smooth whisper, licking his lips.
Bok smiled back and clo
sed his eyes. Ty took a step back, and kicked Bok straight between the legs. Bok grunted and doubled up, falling to the floor. Ty opened the door for Kern and Galandrik.
While Galandrik stood at the door and kept watch, Kern strode over to Bok and hauled him up to sit, groaning, on the edge of the bed. “This is from Kern,” he said, and smashed his fist square into Bok’s nose. Bok fell backwards, holding his face and howling. Kern grabbed Bok by the hair and pulled him upright again. “This one’s for Galandrik.” He smashed him again, this time holding on to Bok’s hair to stop him falling backwards. “And this one’s from Ty!” Kern shouted. Bok’s rapidly swelling eyes popped open at the name, then shut as Kern delivered a final punch, knocking him out cold. Kern let go of Bok’s hair, and he slumped to the floor.
Blood covered Bok’s face and Kern’s fist. Kern wiped his hands on Bok’s bedcovers while Ty finished ransacking Bok’s goods and balling up his clothes. Opening the window, he launched all Bok’s clothes, leather armour, and backpack into the street. The gear was gone in seconds, street urchins and beggars getting whatever they could.
“We’d better leave,” Galandrik warned.
“Not just yet.” Ty bent down over Bok with his dagger drawn.
“What’re you doing?” Kern asked.
“It’s just a little thieves’ guild trick,” Ty replied as he cut deep into Bok’s thumb and forefinger on both hands. Blood trickled from the cuts onto the floor, but Bok did not move.
Kern looked perplexed. “What the hell?”
“Ever tried picking a lock or a pocket with cuts like that? It’s nigh on impossible for weeks. He’ll know where it came from,” Ty said, re-sheathing his dagger.
At that moment Bok stirred, and Ty spun around and kicked him in the stomach. “And that one’s from Tyla! She’s not that easy!” Turning to Kern and Galandrik he said, “Now we can go.” They left Bok curled on the floor, bleeding and coughing.
Soon all three were saddled up and riding towards the gate. They were stopped and given a cursory search at the gate, but “Tyla” distracted the guards, and they were ushered through without any problems. Then they were out and on the path north to Tonilla, the dragon’s lair.
“This should be the final stretch,” Ty said, to no one in particular.
Bok opened his eyes, and the pain hit him like a hammer to the face. He slowly sat up and gently felt his nose, then winced from the pain in his hands. He inspected them and saw the dry congealed blood on his fingers and thumbs. He tried to bend them, but the thick dried blood added to the pain and stopped him. Ty, he thought, only Ty would have done this! A punishment to all thieves caught stealing from another member in the guild. Then Bok remembered the beautiful girl,
“Tyla,” he said out loud in the empty room. “I can’t believe he done me with a disguise!” Bok was absolutely disgusted that he had been outwitted by a simple disguise spell.
He clambered to his feet and looked for his belongings, but found nothing. Anger welled up inside him as he walked to the cupboard; it too was bare, everything gone. He pulled the bed over – trying not to bend his injured finger and thumb – and stepped up on it. Looking on top of the cupboard, he grinned and reached for his money pouch. Hiding it this way was something he always did when inviting a woman back to his room; if she ending up wanting to be paid, he would only show what was in his tunic.
He wrapped the bed sheet round him and walked into the hall, his head still thumping. “Heckton!” he shouted. “Heckton!” Soon the fat innkeeper was thumping up the stairs,
“Yes, what would you…” He stopped short at the sight of Bok’s face. “What the hell happened?” he asked.
“I fell. Now send a boy out to buy me a full set of clothes and boots, and be quick about it!” Bok tossed Heckton a couple of coins and stalked back into his room. He stepped into the bathroom and inspected his face in the mirror. What he saw was a mess. Both eyes black and swollen, his nose off-centre and split across the bridge in two places. He looked at his hands and winched; he knew how long cuts like these would take to heal; even wielding a sword would be agonising. He splashed his face and hands gingerly with water, cleaning himself up carefully as he went over the events in his head. He seemed to remember an old man punching him with the force of a kicking mule, with the words ‘This one’s for Kern.’ It was all a bit hazy after that, but he thought he remembered one standing at the door. The girl, the old man, plus one at the door – it had to be them, he thought, the three who escaped, all disguised. He continued to wipe the blood from his face, but even after it was clean he still looked a mess.
Once the boy returned and Bok was dressed, he left the Inn and headed over to Conn’s house. After a brief discussion with the guards at the gate he was led inside and into a downstairs room, where Svorn greeted him. “Hell, you get kicked by a horse?” he asked.
“Not quite; a Rat,” Bok answered.
Svorn’s eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me…”
“I don’t want to say I told you so, but…” Bok said, sitting down.
“I don’t believe this. Why won’t that little pig die?” Svorn said, slamming a hand down on the table.
“He will, trust me,” Bok hissed.
“Forgive me for mentioning, but how long have you been chasing him now?” Bok didn’t answer. Svorn continued, “We’ve sent a wyvern – make that two wyverns, the King’s guards, and bounty hunters, and still he’s walking!”
Bok said nothing, and after a few moments Svorn sighed and sat opposite Bok. “I will gather the men and inform Conn that this little shit is still about, and may still have his chests,” he said.
“How did they escape?” Bok questioned.
“We don’t really know. They must have had hidden lock picks. We had searched them before locking them up, and we didn’t find anything,” Svorn replied.
“It was Ty. The others are not thieves. He got in somehow and released them, trust me.”
“Rubbish,” Svorn answered angrily. “The guards didn’t see anybody, and the back door was definitely locked all night.”
“Who said he came through the door?” Bok said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Well, he didn’t slide under it!”
“I never said he did. There are plenty of ways of slipping in unnoticed. Was anything delivered? He could have disguised himself as a delivery boy.”
“No, they all go through the main entrance. We would have noticed.”
“Upstairs window?”
“Maybe, but we have guards patrolling all night. Surely they would have spotted him.”
“He is a trained burglar; he would easily hide in shadows and dodge your guards. His climbing skills are second to none. It would be easy.”
“Not buying it, the windows are barred or guarded, and the rooms that aren’t in use are locked from the outside.”
“Ever heard of lock picks?”
“That would be a hell of a lot of work to go through. Our walls are sheer, no way he’d be able to climb them. Besides then he’d have to get through the whole house without alerting anyone.”
“Maybe not… what about the chimney?” Bok shrugged.
“Now you are clutching at straws!”
“You’d be surprised how versatile some thieves are.”
“More chance digging a tunnel than coming –”
“That’s it! Tunnel!”
“Now you really are clutching at straws,” Svorn scoffed. “You think he dug a tunnel and –”
“No, not dug a tunnel – the drains. Is there a drain in the cell he could have come through?”
Svorn stood up. “Tez!” he shouted, and the door opened.
“Yes, Svorn?”
“Go down to the cells and check the drain covers. Now,” Svorn said, waving his hand.
Twenty minutes later, Tez knocked and entered. “In the cell opposite, the drain cover was loose, and it’s been moved recently,” Tez said, bowing his head. “But there’s more,” he added.
&nb
sp; “Go on,” Svorn said, folding his arms.
“The stores were robbed last night,” Tez said, embarrassed.
“How? What’s gone?” Svorn said, walking over to Tez.
“The three men who escaped, it’s just their weapons – an axe and a sword,” Tez answered.
“Give the store guard ten lashings and ready ten men; we leave at once,” Svorn shouted.
“Yes, sir,” Tez answered, backing out and closing the door behind him.
Svorn sat back down. “He steals from the king, kills the king’s wyvern, breaks into Conn’s house, kills his guards – he will pay for this,” Svorn snarled.
“The sooner the better,” Bok agreed.
“Be ready in one hour,” Svorn said.
“I’m ready now,” Bok replied.
Chapter Twenty-One: Up North They Go
The party continued northwards. Sleeper sat in front of Ty, his wings flapping every so often, much to the annoyance of the thief. “I think we should camp soon. It’s getting dark and this little one keeps trying to bite my mount,” he laughed as he looked over at Kern.
“Good idea. Let’s head towards the Eastern Mountains; there is bound to be a shelter we can use, and we’ll be off this track if they send out any search parties,” Kern suggested.
“Do you think we should have killed Bok?” Galandrik asked, drawing a finger across his throat.
“We only kill when we have to, remember? Killing a defenceless man lying naked on the floor is hardly our thing,” Kern replied, shaking his head.
“He’ll follow us, you know, and probably tell others. Only bring us grief in the end.”
“Maybe we should have stuck him in a barrel and sent him to Blame on a cargo wagon,” Ty said, scratching Sleeper’s head.
“He won’t follow us now; he’ll still be nursing those wounds,” Kern laughed.
“Oh, he’ll follow. He’s that stupid he won’t let it lie,” Ty replied.
“Look over there,” Galandrik interrupted, pointing at a path that snaked up into the mountains.
The party followed the path up the rocky terrain. The trail didn’t take them in towards the deep heart of the mountains; they rode just along the eastern ridge. Down to the east at ground level they could see the pathway that ran adjacent to the one they were on. The fields and trees of eastern Bodisha spread eastward below them, covering the land as far as they could see.