The boys spent the before noon looking at the wonders from exotic and far-away lands (not to mention the ones from close and boring lands) and almost forgot that they had money to buy something if they wished. They also talked to many people about whatever the others wanted to talk about. If the conversation ever got too boring, the boys would all of a sudden remember some commitment and quickly walk away. At one point, Tarthur decided to buy a rather high quality sword, and Derlin had to stop him. He explained that this money was all that they had, and they might not get more for quite a long time, and besides Tarthur already had a sword. Tarthur was forced to acquiesce on the last point, and so the pair decided to buy dinner instead. In their excitement to try and see everything, they had quite forgotten about lunch, and now evening was fast approaching.
They stopped at one particularly nice looking vendor, and Tarthur opened his money sac to hand the man a coin. To his surprise, one coin was enough for both his and Derlin’s meals, which consisted of roast turkey legs and warm apples covered with something called caramel. The caramel was a sweet, brownish thick liquid that tasted sugary and left one’s hands very sticky. Their hands being thus in their present state of stickiness, the pair was forced to search for a well, or some other suitable means of cleansing themselves. What they found was an enormous and beautiful fountain erected in the center of the town square.
Derlin was musing about the outhouses that a jovial old man had told him about earlier in the day. He had explained that they had some mystical and amazing apparatus called plumbing, of which neither of the boys had ever heard. It was rumored that some secret magical force called suction coupled with water carried their refuse away from the toilet and through the sewer system. This was then mixed with the old parts of the wheat that was unused to form fertilizer for the coming planting season. Derlin was more than a little skeptical. He had always been interested in mechanical things, plus he had quite a powerful urge to go, so he went to check if this was really true. Tarthur was left standing by the fountain. Having nothing better with which to occupy his time, Tarthur began to study the center.
The figures were beautifully carved in much detail, and they seemed to be of some ancient battle. Tarthur was bending over to get a drink, when he saw a reflection of a beautiful girl’s face next to his own. Startled, he turned around slowly, afraid to lose the girl’s image if he spun too fast, anxious that the girl’s face would only be a trick of the light, or some new magic. It was not.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She spoke in a soft, musical voice, yet one that hid a strength of character so formidable that it would have startled Tarthur, had he seen it. “I always like to come here in the evenings, when you can see the colors of the setting sun reflect off Hana-Chan’s forehead.”
Tarthur felt like staying there all day, watching her. He didn’t know why, maybe it was something in the way she carried herself, or maybe it was in the twinkle in her eye when she smiled, or maybe it was the gentle sigh she gave when she finished talking. Whatever it was, curiosity and the need to say something prevailed, so he asked, “Hana-Chan?” Tarthur wondered why he couldn’t think of anything better to say, and after he had said it a million things came into his mind. Too late.
The girl seemed puzzled. “The king who defeated the Evil One. Everyone around here knows Hana-Chan. You must be new in town?” Her question left a scent of possibility in the air.
“Yeah…uh, yes, I’m new in town,” Tarthur stammered, a little embarrassed. He felt inferior next to this girl standing before him. She was tall, but not overly, and a little heavy, but not fat. It seemed as if most of her body was made of muscle. She had flowing blond hair, which caught the rays of setting sunlight and danced with them before throwing them back into the fountain, there to dance again. Tarthur wanted to show her that he knew things too. “Oh, three hundred years ago, he was the one who defeated Darhyn?”
“Don’t say that name,” she chastised him, and then Tarthur felt her body press slightly closer to his and her hand inadvertently slip into his own. “I mean, you must be very brave to say that name. I’m glad you’re not afraid.” Tarthur was about to tell her the truth, but her last statement checked him. How he yearned to tell her of his meeting with the Death Lord, how he had stabbed him, how he had traveled the world and found objects and friends of power! But he didn’t, because he was afraid. He had been afraid then, and he would be afraid when the war came. So he said nothing.
Tarthur turned and instead let his smile do the talking. “No, I’m not very brave.” He tried to make it sound like he knew he was brave but was just trying to act modest but she should still think he was brave. Or something like that.
She flashed him a smile back, hesitated for a moment, and then said, “My name is Yvonne.”
“And I’m Tarthur,” he finished simply.
The two stood there silently for a moment, the gentle night breeze wafting the girl’s perfume into Tarthur’s nose. It was a fiery scent, but it also felt cool and clean, and it made Tarthur oddly conscious of how he must smell, filthy and sweaty. When was the last time he had taken a bath? He usually took one every other spring, whether he needed it or not. One and a half years ago? Tarthur resolved to take one immediately upon returning to the servants’ quarters. It made him embarrassed, and he felt like he had to say something quick. “This sculpture is very beautiful.”
She nodded for a moment, and Tarthur wondered if she had heard him. Then she tuned and looked into his eyes and said, “Sometimes we find beauty in some very unexpected places.” They stood looking into each other’s eyes for a moment, and Tarthur was worrying, “what if she kisses me, I don’t know what to do!” Then a voice from somewhere inside said, “kiss her back, stupid!” He never got the chance, because she suddenly seemed to think better of it, almost as if she received some hidden signal from somewhere. In any event, she turned away sadly. “I’ve got to go home now.” The way she said it left no room for discussion.
“I would like to see you again,” Tarthur wasn’t sure what to say, but he had a feeling she was going to slip away from him if he didn’t do something.
“I would like to see you again too. How about tomorrow night, here by this well? You are very handsome, you know.” Tarthur returned the compliment, and said tomorrow would be just fine. Too late he thought about Akin and his school, but even if he had remembered in time he would have still promised Yvonne that he would be there. Nothing would stop him from coming.
As she waved goodbye, Tarthur in a state of wonder and amazement watched her walk down to the end of the street, where then she turned and faced him again. “Oh, and Tarthur, it is Tarthur, isn’t it? Don’t ever carry all of your money like that. Well, as if you had that problem now.” She finished this statement and blew him a kiss, and before it reached the dreamy Tarthur, the meaning of her words hit him. The money! It was gone. She had robbed him of all of his money. Horrendously embarrassed and furious he charged after her, but she had gotten the jump on him. As Tarthur raced through the streets that she had grown up in and he had just seen for the first time, he realized just how foolish he was. He was mad, but more at himself than her. He, the master thief in Krendon, had been outsmarted and robbed, and worst of all it was by a girl! A girl! She had played his emotions, and now all he knew was that he wanted to catch her. He must catch her.
Tarthur had on his side a naturally stronger body and a deep desire to catch the girl and make her pay. Yvonne had on her side a head start and knowledge of the many twists and turns of the city streets. Tarthur’s pure desire and force of will proved to be the deciding factor. Soon she was within a couple meters, and he was closing rapidly. Just as he was on the verge of catching her, she disappeared into a side tunnel into one of the buildings. Tarthur turned to look for her, but as he was examining the hole, he heard a voice call out from behind him. Tarthur spun around, and at first couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.
“Hey, cutie! Looking for someone?” The voic
e was coming from the roof of a building. As Tarthur looked at it, he could see Yvonne on top taunting him. How had she gotten there so fast? She must know a secret way. Losing no time, Tarthur started to climb the side of the building, Yvonne still at the top taunting him. As he started to climb, Tarthur reached for an unsafe handhold and as it crumbled away, was sent sprawling onto the street below.
Yvonne let out a burst of laughter, which only increased Tarthur’s desire to catch her and harm her. It wasn’t even about money now. It was personal.
Tarthur was incredulous that only a few minutes ago he was thinking about kissing her. Now he just wanted to hit her. This time up the building Tarthur was careful, and chose his holds accordingly. Yvonne was still taunting him, but as he got closer and closer to the top, her taunts died off and she began to run away again.
Upon reaching the roof, Tarthur was just able to see the top of her blond hair disappear as she leaped onto another building. Tarthur was hot in pursuit and he saw her glance back just once to see if he was still chasing. After leaping from rooftop to rooftop in this way, Yvonne suddenly opened a trapdoor in the roof of one of the buildings and slid gracefully in. Tarthur was quick to follow and if he had thought about it, he would have wondered why she did not lock the door after herself. But he was in too much of a hurry to notice such things.
Light from a dozen or so lanterns and a fire greeted Tarthur as he stepped into the room. He was surrounded by the voices of many men, relaxing from a day’s hard work over a mug of ale and a pot of stew. The men were gruff-looking and unshaven, but on the whole seemed congenial and friendly. Tarthur realized that he was in a tavern. If he was not so single-minded of purpose, he might have stopped for a glass of ale, but of course he couldn’t because he had no money. At least not until he found the girl and took it back!
The prospects for finding her were rather bleak, however. There were plenty of places for her to hide, and a cloak covering her blond hair could make her hard to recognize. It was just then that he saw a man walking a little too gracefully out the door, and he saw a wisp of gold come ever so slightly out of the hood. Stealthily, Tarthur followed her, out the door and into the streets, where she started to run. Tarthur ran after her, and soon she shed her cloak so as to run unhindered.
When Tarthur had almost caught up with her again, she disappeared once more and reappeared behind him some twenty meters. Puzzled, he charged after her again, but this time she disappeared once more and appeared back where he had almost caught her. Instead of running again, she called out to Tarthur, “Hey! You’re not as bad as you look! Anyway, I’ve had fun with you tonight, stealing your gold and leading you on all over the city and all, but you’re really no challenge for me, and frankly, I’m bored. So I’ll stop giving you hints and slowing myself up so you can catch me! Well, save up some more gold so I can take it again. See ya ’round.”
With this she disappeared again, and this time Tarthur could not pick up her trail, but it was probably just as well that he didn’t, because he was so furious that he couldn’t think straight. All of his life, Tarthur had been playing con games and pilfering small things. Now, he had gotten beaten easily by a girl! And not only that, he never stole when it would really hurt someone, but now he had the added problem of not having any of the money that he might really need. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could ask the king for more, seeing as how he was now quite important, but his mind was not thinking correctly. But the worst part of all was that she said he didn’t even challenge her! Tarthur vowed right then and there, that sometime, somewhere, that girl would pay.
Tarthur returned to the fountain to find a mildly worried Derlin, who had since returned from the outhouse to find his companion gone. “Where were you?” Derlin called out in a slightly exasperated tone. He didn’t really seem mad, only a little scared that something had happened to Tarthur, or as was more frequently the case, Tarthur had happened to something. Upon recognizing the look on his boyhood friend’s face, however, Derlin quickly softened his tone. It appeared that this disappearance was a case of the former.
Derlin’s slightly harsh rebuke did not bother Tarthur, for in fact he never even heard it. Derlin just heard him repeating something over and over. When he got closer, he heard him saying, “That tramp! I can’t believe it! Not a challenge indeed! I’ll show her a challenge!”
“What is it, what happened?” It was not too often that Tarthur swore, but now he looked really angry.
So Tarthur took a deep breath and began his story, beginning from when Derlin left up until Yvonne was saying goodbye. At this part he stalled, unwilling to tell it to his confidant to whom he revealed everything. “Then she…well, you know.”
“What? She kissed you?”
“No, she…uh…shestolmymonynleft.” Tarthur mumbled his answer, embarrassment preventing him from saying it outright. Lifelong friends, Derlin still caught his meaning, and burst out laughing.
“Here I was worried about you all this time and you were just off planning a joke. Pretty good one too! And it was so realistic that I would have almost believed it if it weren’t for the absurdity of the whole situation. You almost had me for a second there, except, next time make up something more believable, I mean, come on even Morty isn’t stupid enough to get fooled like that!”
Something in Tarthur’s face told him that this was not a joke.
Tarthur’s look told Derlin that this was one of those times when it was better to say nothing, so the two friends walked back to their quarters in silence. The city was beautiful, with all of the people beginning to turn on their lights. The lights were new to the boys. It almost seemed like it wasn’t night at all, but only dusk with the glow from the lanterns sweeping out across the streets like foamy waves on a beach, yet staying in place instead of rushing back to join the surf as a wave would. Derlin’s breathing was slow and regular, keeping perfect time with the soft patter of his footsteps on the worn cobblestone pathway. Derlin’s relaxed, easy manner contrasted heavily with that of his companion. Tarthur’s shoulders were tight, and he breathed haggardly, not at all in rhythm with his steps.
Derlin looked at the tight ridges of concentration on Tarthur’s forehead. “What are you going to do?” Tarthur knew that Derlin had guessed what he was thinking, but he made his friend ask the question anyway.
“I’m going to go back tomorrow and find her.”
“And what then? Beat her up? Tarthur, you can’t get your money back even if you find her. All she has to do is yell for help and then you’ll be in trouble.”
Tarthur thought about it for a moment and then spoke: “I…! I, that’s strange. I feel as if I would like to see her again, even if I don’t get the money. In her eyes, it was like…” Tarthur trailed off and took a deep breath. “No, she may have seemed like she was a nice girl, but after what she did to me...”
“We can’t go back until next Sunday, anyway. Remember, we have to be busy studying.”
Tarthur looked at Derlin incredulously. “It’s just for one night, and we’ll be finished with all of our classes for the day before I go to look for her.”
Derlin looked sternly back at Tarthur. “We’ve got to study hard and learn as much as we can, remember? Besides, I’m sure she won’t be there. It was just a ploy to get you so wrapped up in your emotions that you would forget to watch your wallet. Tarthur, I want you to promise me that you won’t go back there tomorrow.”
Tarthur was about to retort angrily, he was not in the sort of mood for someone to tell him what to do and what not to do. But when he saw Derlin’s concerned face, he softened somewhat. He knew that his friend would not stop until he won, and he was not in the mood for a protracted argument either. Suddenly Tarthur felt tired, tired of running, tired of losing, tired of having other forces control his life, tired of other people taking advantage of him. If he had had more energy, he would have felt like fighting back, but now he just felt like sleeping. So he promised his friend, and they returned to their rooms to
sleep in a nice warm bed, for tomorrow their schooling would begin.
* * *
Yvonne brushed aside the moth-infested canvas and walked through the three pieces of splintered wood held together by a handful of rusty nails that pretended to be a door. She was greeted by the light of a robust fire that glimmered off the walls and made dark shadows that danced on her face and then sauntered off. The smell of roasted turkey slowly turning on a spit lured her nose, and as she turned, she saw the unbelievable. It was true. So Yvette must have been back with the money already. Two small children rushed up and jumped on her legs, laughing and squeezing until Yvonne thought her legs might fall off. Failing to pry them off, she playfully started to walk with them on. The children laughed for a while, but soon grew tired of it and found some new diversion.
Yvonne walked through the room and found Yvette sitting in her chair, munching on a turkey leg. Yvonne looked through the air heavy with smoke at her twin. “I know we have reason to celebrate, but do you think it is wise to have spent the money so soon?”
“Of course, you haven’t heard yet,” Yvette said, walking to greet her sister and put her arm around her. “You got quite a fine catch this time. That boy’s pocket had twelve gold pieces in it. This has got to be one of our most profitable operations in quite some time.”
Yvonne nodded, and smiled. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? We sure fooled him good. I bet he probably wants to kill me right now. I wonder who he is…I mean, I’ve never seen him around here before.”
“Probably some son of a country nobleman, with the way he acted and the amount of money he was carrying, all in one place too. He certainly hasn’t grown up on the streets if he was that careless.” Yvette saw Yvonne nod slowly, and she could immediately see what her twin was thinking. All of their lives, the twins had known each other like they were one person. At times they could even feel what the other was feeling, even though they were miles apart. So Yvette asked her question, not to learn the answer, but rather to make her sister say it. “What’s wrong?”
Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Page 19