Lightfoot

by Joe Kuster

  “The castle looks nice,” TJ offered and nodded to the peak of the hill.

  The walls were much higher than those of the city itself, and it looked well patrolled. While he hadn’t gotten a good look at it, it didn’t appear all that large. However, the white stone walls were clean, and bright purple and gold banners flapped lazily in the breeze.

  Rachel looked toward it forlornly. “It’s a small gem dropped in the middle of a cow splat, and we have to stay in the brown part.”

  TJ chuckled. “You know, you switch back and forth a lot. You try to be all prim and proper at times, but you slide back into being a girl from a simple village and raised by a soldier pretty quickly. Somehow I doubt the term ‘cow splat’ comes up much while attending court.”

  Rachel scrunched up her face. “I… haven’t actually attended court. Not yet, anyway. Father wasn’t born nobility. Mom wasn’t from here either. I learned most of it from etiquette guides, but I couldn’t act like that growing up. I’d just get teased. So, I would pretend to be a noble lady around my tutors and the servants. It was fun, but anywhere else, I was just me.

  “The most respect I got was around the Red Briar or the guards. When I was a little girl, Father would bring me along, and the women and guards would bow and play along. I was kind of hoping this would be my chance to actually be something special, not just pretend.”

  TJ took her hand in his. “You’re incredibly special, but not because of some silly title. You’re special because you’re you.”

  Rachel gave his hand a squeeze.

  “Thanks, TJ, but none of that matters anymore. Not really. I’m sworn to Serina and you. You’ve only asked me to do what I’d already offered, but I know that you could force me to do pretty much anything. You could have paraded me from Larton to here wearing nothing but a leash if you wished, offering me to anyone who walked by. Serina would enforce my vow to you above anything else.

  “Instead, you’ve proven the man I thought you were before I died. You’re even going along with this ridiculous process to request a noble marriage to respect my wishes. I’m thankful for that, I truly am. I know that my life is no longer my own, but I still have no idea how to tell my family that,” she said.

  He replied earnestly, “Rachel, my kind tend to be free spirits. We soar the skies, knowing that the breeze will never blow us directly to our destination. Trying to exert too much control will only wear you down. Thinking in straight lines means a constant struggle. It’s better to read the currents and accept a looser path.

  “The idea of you being chained by oaths to me is frankly terrifying. Especially since our words have power. One little slip on either of our sides could have a divine compulsion kick in. I hope you’ll forgive me if I screw up here and there, but I’ll try to be careful not to force you into anything you don’t want to do. If you need to go be a noblewoman and run a household, I’m ok with that. Once our bond is stable, you won’t be limited to staying at my side.”

  Rachel frowned. “I want to be with you. At least when I can. That trip was stressful, tedious, and made my butt hurt from sitting on a flat board all day. At the same time, cuddling next to you around a campfire each night made every minute of that trek worth it.”

  “Even having to squat in the woods?” TJ asked with a smirk.

  She snorted. “Yes. Even that. I’m just glad your magic fixes poison ivy rashes.” Shifting topics, she sighed and blew out a long breath. “Although, you mentioned the oaths earlier, and that niggling sensation that I need to replace your armor is making more sense. That’s the vows, isn’t it?”

  TJ nodded. “Yeah. It pops into my head every now and then. Our bond is going to take time to get used to. I don’t even care about the armor, but it’s like a bell chime reminding me to check up on it.”

  Her face cracked into a soft smile. “Well, I guess I have some shopping to do when we get some time.” She paused to motion around them. “I guess there’s no way this place could ever live up to what I had in my head. Everyone I’ve ever known has talked it up as though it was something different. It’s got more shops and people, but… I expected something grand. I think I’m feeling rather lied to at the moment.

  “I expected a warm welcome and elegant accommodations, but this makes me wonder about everything else I’ve been told. I used to think being in the lower parts of nobility just meant we were still nobility. I guess I was wrong.”

  TJ speculated, “That comment about your father got under your skin, didn’t it?”

  “My father always seemed so accomplished. He’d led men into battle and quelled uprisings, and rarely had many losses even when significantly outnumbered. I thought my family was held in better regard than this. That man made it seem like my father was evil incarnate,” she replied.

  “Well… I only know my world’s view on war, but ballads are retold of glorious battles where a small number took on a horde. Although I suspect it’s really the bloody slaughtering of innocents or those so ill-prepared that they might as well be children most of the time. Anyone on the losing side of that isn’t going to just forget about it and move on. Hero to one side, ruthless butcher to another,” TJ said.

  Rachel nodded somberly. “I suppose that makes sense. There are some campaigns that my father refuses to discuss, and Amalay was one of them. Not even his soldiers will talk about it, or if they do, they get this far away look in their eye and try to end the conversation as fast as possible. It’s why I think he stepped down and leads the guard instead of a military contingent. He’d be at least a baron by now, otherwise.”

  TJ helped her into the wagon, then flung a leg over his own horse.

  “Well, if they knew about our arrival, I suspect this won’t be the end of the drama for the day,” TJ said.

  Rachel grumbled, “I fear how right you may be, my intended.”

  Chapter 22

  “Aye, not a problem. One room fit for a noble with servant’s quarters for a week‘ll run ya a gold. That includes stabling your horses, hot baths, maid service, access to the scribe next door for small stuff, an’ a messenger to the castle. I, uh, ne’er heard o’ no Lightfoot, though. He’s not one of those elf fuckers from up north, is he?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “He’s never been to the north. Of zat, I am certain. Oh, we do have messages to send.” Abby suppressed a grin as she dropped a single gold coin in front of the man along with several sealed letters.

  With a quick nod, the man scooped the coin into his pocket. He then eyed the destination on the papers before sliding them into a tray on the counter. “Ye each get two meals a day. Anything else is extra. If’n I ain’t here, talk to my boy if you need anything.”

  He then placed a key into Abby’s hand. Giving her a careful look, he leaned in. “Might wanna avoid the streets at night. City has a dark feel ‘bout it lately. Guild a’ Thieves been busy as bees, and guards ‘a been freer with their coin. ‘Tween that and a rash of people going missing, that’s got me keeping close to home. Might wanna do the same, if’n ya catch my drift.”

  Nodding that she understood, she shifted away from the counter, allowing the next customer to be served. Receiving a gentle tug over their bond, Rachel and TJ strode in unworried.

  Rachel leaned in and whispered, “We’ll need to keep up appearances that we’re your attendants. At least until we meet with the Duchess. So… just hang out down here. Abby and I will get the rooms ready and start cleaning up. We’ll need our hair to be dry before heading to the castle, so it’ll be easier if we’re first.”

  TJ nodded and glanced around the common room. There were only a couple patrons. A man and a boy, both reading by the windows, and a sight he hadn’t expected. In the corner was a familiar non-human, one he hadn’t seen since he’d fallen through the portal. The redhaired man was chewing on his lip as he moved his playing cards around his table while playing a game TJ wasn’t familiar with.

  He was big for a dwarf. Tall enough that TJ assumed he was of mixed heritag
e, but the nose and shape of the skull were unmistakable. If that weren’t enough, he had a long beard with engraved bronze crimps woven into it. Even from here, TJ could make out the markers that identified him as a metalworker. They were a bit different than the ones he knew, but the symbology was unmistakable if one routinely got drunk around enough dwarves that were showing off their new emblems as they moved up the ranks.

  TJ’s hand tapped the hefty bulge he had in one of the pouches he’d strapped around his waist, and he pursed his lips. He had need of a dwarf.

  Dropping a gold coin on the counter, TJ asked, “Can I start a tab on this?”

  The fuzzy caterpillars the bartender used as eyebrows nearly climbed off his head before he schooled his reaction.

  “Been a long week, and I’m picky about my booze,” TJ explained.

  “Aye. For that amount of coin, ya get to be. What ya drinking?” the innkeeper asked.

  TJ replied, “Whatever you have that kicks like a mad centaur, but still goes down as smooth as an appreciative water naiad.”

  The man scrunched up his face and chewed on his lip, giving it significant thought. He frowned for a bit, then his hard-lined face shifted into a grin that showed off yellowed teeth. He rummaged under the counter for nearly a minute until he retrieved two unmarked brown bottles covered in a thick coating of dust.

  “Got just the thing, ‘ere. Bought three bottles of satyr applejack years back. The staff and I split a bottle during a solstice party. Er… I think we did. No one’s quite sure wha’ happened that night, but we all woke up on a roof. Not the same building, mind you. Nope. Each of us was on different roofs.”

  TJ laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like exactly what I need.”

  The man uncorked the bottle and sat several shot glasses next to it.

  TJ took a sniff and felt his muscles relaxing already. From a single sniff, he knew he was looking at a mixed apple mash. He could pick out notes of a sour green and a sweet apple of some sort. Mellowing them out, there was at least one, or perhaps two other types of apples that bulked out the profile. It had been matured in fired oak barrels. If he didn’t miss his guess, the aging had been somewhere with a high level of background mana. The satyr probably had a grove of dryads helping it along.

  His magic swooned. He hadn’t even tasted it yet, but he could tell it would be an artistic masterpiece of inebriation. He had been looking for something like this since he’d finished the flask he’d brought with him.

  “Not sure if you can find anything else like it, but I’d buy at least a few cases. Oh, and I need a bunch of chocolate. Just put it on my tab and have it sent up to my room later.” He then nodded his head toward the corner table. “Think the dwarf would like some applejack?”

  The man scrunched up his face, then nodded. “Aye. Not many would turn it down. Yoddeat especially. Ye got business with ‘im?”

  “Maybe. I don’t want to intrude, but I could use an introduction to someone who knows about ore and metals,” TJ replied.

  Shifting his gaze toward the corner, the man hollered, “Ay, Yoddeat! Man ‘ere wansta buy ya a drink, ya good? Or should I tell ‘im to toss off?”

  The dwarf eyed TJ critically then snorted, motioning for TJ to join him. Taking the cue, TJ approached with the bottle and two shot glasses in hand. Setting them atop the table, he backed off two paces.

  He made a short bow, then extended his arms, fists together. “TJ of the Lightfoot clan. Friend and ally of the Irondeeps and Amberfists.”

  The man quirked an eyebrow. “I can’t say as I’ve heard of either clan, but I acknowledge the respect given. Not many humans would bother. Greetings TJ, I’m Yoddeat of the Copperfoot clan. Join me.”

  Formalities out of the way, TJ slid into a chair across from the man. He poured two fingers into each glass, then slid one in front of the man, carefully avoiding the game of cards.

  The dwarf eyed the liquor skeptically then gave it a sniff. Shrugging, he slammed it back.

  Grinning, TJ mirrored the movements. He closed his eyes, enjoying the rich flavor of apples and smokey oak. It was even more mellow than he’d expected.

  Yoddeat’s eyes bulged, and he suppressed a gasp. “Whew. What the fuck did Terry set us up with?”

  “Applejack. Satyr made,” TJ answered.

  The man pursed his lips and eyed the shot glass in his hand. “A man doesn’t drop coin like that on a stranger because he’s waiting on his woman. However, I haven’t heard of the Lightfoots before. Pardon my ignorance if you’re someone I should already know.”

  “No worries, friend. I just got here. Fell through a portal, in fact. I hear that’s not too unusual, but I’m still getting my bearings. I had a bit of good fortune and ran into a stone that caught my eye when exploring.” TJ pulled out the rock he’d carried from the goblin cave but didn’t put it on the table yet. “Was wondering if I could get a professional evaluation on its makeup and value.”

  Yoddeat nodded. “Aye, but not every shiny rock is worth a dry spit. I could let you know if it’s got potential, or if it’s best left to the merchants that sell cheap stones for peasant jewelry.”

  “Fair enough.” TJ poured another shot for each of them. He then repeated an often-told toast when his father was serving dwarves. “May your pick-ax be tougher than your rock, and your cock harder than either.”

  The dwarf laughed and slammed back the alcohol. TJ welcomed the familiar sensation of magically-infused liquor and felt the annoyances of the day sliding away. Yoddeat, on the other hand, squinted cockeyed as the booze slammed into his system like a cyclops passing gas—silent but powerful enough to clear a tavern in five seconds flat.

  TJ listed to the side and found himself grinning at nothing particular. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your expertise. I’d be willing to pay for a sworn statement to its value.”

  The dwarf smacked his lips and squinted. “Well… going ra—” Yoddeat hiccupped. “—rate is a silver. I might be able to do less, but…”

  TJ reached into his purse and pulled free a silver coin. “For a sworn assessment? I’m fine with a silver.”

  “Aight. I swear ta give ya my best,” Yoddeat said, his words beginning to slur.

  TJ felt the soft press of a minor oath offered. He pulled at it and tied it off. The other man didn’t seem to notice as the pressure came and went. TJ retrieved the stone from his lap and set it before the man.

  Yoddeat scrunched up his face, and his eyes widened. He pivoted the stone and held it up to the light and squinting for a long time. After nearly a minute, the man pulled a tool from his pocket. He placed the hardened steel scribe against the stone and scratched across the various colors. He then held his tongue to the rock and looked lost in thought.

  Placing it on the table, the man began chewing on his knuckles. “Guessing you’re not going to tell me where you found this, are you?”

  TJ replied, “Not without some agreements in place.”

  Shifting uncomfortably, the man poked at the rock, pointing to the blue-green stuff that looked like mold. “This here is a bit of tennantite. It’ll process into copper. On its own, it might be worth mining if it isn’t hard to get to. You’re not gonna get rich, but it’s good honest work. Now, was there a lot of this rock?”

  TJ nodded slowly, waiting for the rest.

  “You, uh… didn’t mention where you fell out of that portal. Was it close by?” the dwarf asked.

  TJ offered. “Oh, I haven’t gotten a good sense of where things are. It wasn’t near much other than trees, and I haven’t seen a decent map of the area.”

  “Oh,” he grumbled. Sighing, he poked at the streak of gray-white metal. “This bit along the white quartz is silver mixed with what I think are traces of lead. I can’t tell how pure it is until we separate it. It’ll probably pay for leasing the land and setting up a small operation. Now… how far away was this portal?”

  TJ chuckled. “My route detoured all over. Got attacked by goblins and twice by cursed beasts
. Then I was jumped by a pack of bandits. Wasn’t exactly a straight line. Anything else?”

  The dwarf’s lips tightened. He seemed to be actively fighting against the oath as his fingers danced across the golden speckles on the rock’s surface.

  TJ mulled his options. He could yank on the binding and force Serina to handle it. It would probably be a messy way to go, if he had to guess. Deciding not to be a complete asshat just yet, he opted to try a different approach.

  TJ offered, “Look, I’ve got more important things to do than running a mine. I’ve already got letters out beginning negotiations on the land and rights. I’m also backed by the local noble family. Once that’s settled, I’d welcome terms from the Copperfoot clan to get it operational. I’ve got no issues working with dwarves, and I know mining is hard work. Hard work means getting paid. I’d expect whoever ran it to hire locals where possible and ensure I got a reasonable profit, but I don’t want to run it. The less I have to do with it, the better.”

  The man leaned back in his chair for a moment, then cracked a smile. “Well, why the fuck dinna you say so, lad! Father Borri’s broken dick, that’s motherfucking gold! Forget the rest, you’ve got high purity gold flake.”

  TJ felt the small tether to the man disconnect and float off into the ether. Smiling, he poured them another round.

  Yoddeat grinned broadly. “May your women be hotter than your furnace and take more of a pounding than your anvil!”

  “Now that, I can drink to,” TJ said with a chuckle.

  He slammed back the shot and gave a long, slow exhale. As he pondered the cobwebs on the ceiling, he remembered something else he was supposed to find out.