by Daniel Casey
Moxley nodded, “I’ll have someone for you in the next couple of hours.”
“You’re a superb officer Kieran, I’m lucky to have you. Make sure you get back here as soon as you can, because you’ll be the next man to command this navy.”
Arderra
He had followed her out of the boarding house that first night. She could feel a presence behind her, moving too casually, throwing side-eye glances her way when she paused to take in the new city. To his credit, there was precious few places to keep oneself hidden.
Arderra wasn’t a tiny village but it was a quiet one. There were only a handful of folks out in the streets so too few in which to get lost. Although there were plenty of shadows, thanks to the town’s novelty of oil lamps atop long thin metal poles at every intersection, it made casting backwards glances more fruitful than the more common darkness most thieves were accustom.
Within one of these halos of soft yellow light, Jena paused and waited. She stood still with her back to him as she heard him approach. Fitful at first, as though he didn’t know what his next move should be. Time felt like slowed, a deep moment. He made the decision. Coming up to her quickly, she heard him unsheathe a dagger. She felt his body before he knew he was near enough to strike. Jena spun around effortless stunning Heston, who only had an instant to realize his quarry hadn’t just side-stepped him but was now behind him with a palm stiletto’s point setting free a pinprick of blood at the base of his skull.
“Maybe you know this or you don’t, but if I press even the slightest my needle end you.” Jena whispered in a seductive calm.
“I know what pithing is, girl…” He felt the blade edge a bit deeper and held his tongue.
“Now, let’s not start off like that.” Jena tensed and fought the overwhelming urge to kill this pretender. “I think you need to explain yourself.”
“You’ve obviously got coin, I just want it.”
“Try again.”
“Cozy up to the constable doesn’t win anyone friends, figured if I got rid of you he’d ease off on me.”
“Better but still not quite right.”
Heston laughed, “What do you want to hear.”
“The closest thing to the truth that you can manage, boy.” Jena brought her boot down on Heston’s calf and he crumpled to the ground.
“Hang on, damn it.” Heston grimaced as he turned to face her. Jena didn’t hesitate. She drew her other dagger, crouched, and pressed the kris’s edge to Heston’s throat.
“I’m obviously a bit better than you at this.” She gazed into his eyes and saw his anger turn to a surprised fear. He’d obviously never considered his own death. Jena’s own expression was emotionless. She could sense the panic building in Heston. Even a gifter cornered could be a danger. She eased back slightly and nodded to him, “Let’s hear it then.”
“Okay,” Heston didn’t stutter but you could hear a wobble in his voice, “There’s a bounty for a woman ranger.”
“Who’s bounty?”
“It was issued by the justiciars.”
She didn’t betray any recognition. “Bandra? Why are they after a free ranger?”
“A woman free ranger.” Heston corrected. “Apparently, she killed some of their number in her breaking out her partner from one of their jails.”
“And you thought…”
“It was you.”
“Flattering.” Jena stepped back and gestured with the kris for him to stand. “If I could beat you like this, what made you think you could take a ranger that’s beaten justiciars?”
“A woman ranger.” Heston said again.
“Yeah, a woman,” She pointed at herself casually with the kris, “and if what you say is true, she’d likely have a partner.”
“The coin is well worth it.” Heston was sulking.
“How much?” Jena kept her daggers out but tried to look as at ease as possible to coax more information.
“A brick.” He said reluctantly.
“Light be damned, a thousand aurei?”
“So you see, it was worth the attempt.”
“Nothing is worth your life.”
“Maybe not, but I had to try.”
“Well, you should try harder. I just came in from the west and am alone so not so much your mark.”
Heston nodded, “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Consider it a free lesson.” Jena sheathed her weapons. “Are you the big bad around here? That constable was grilling me about you.” Heston seemed to brighten a bit at the suggestion.
“That constable has had it in for me for a while now but I’ve managed to keep him off my trail. He can’t prove anything against me. He just fishing.”
“Well, then maybe you’re who I should talk to.” “Yeah?”
“Maybe the way I see it you owe me for this misunderstanding.”
“You’re looking for work? Why not just go after the bounty?”
“Who said I wasn’t going to? Might be easier for me. Flush out you boys, get rid of the competition, then lure her to me. We girls have to stick together.”
“Yeah, well, I could help…”
Jena shook her head, “Naw, I need something now. Something that’ll put enough coin in my pocket to keep me going. Guess I’m going north instead of east if those justiciars are looking for blood. I don’t want any hassle.”
“We can’t talk out here in the street.” Heston looked nervously around.
“Worried about the constable?”
“I’ve not kept my hide out of custody this long by discussing business in the open.”
“Let’s not get too carried away, I did just almost end you here.” She said.
Heston winced. “You come to my place. It’s a few streets west of Moria’s, a burnt out tenement. You’ll know it right away.”
“And once I’m there you won’t try to kill me for making you look like an amateur?”
“I’ve had a plan for a while now, haven’t been able to make it happen. But if you can do what you did to me, then we could both get rich quick.”
“What is it?”
“I’m not gonna say out there. But just consider the fact that even Spires soldier out here need to be paid.”
Jena nodded, “Alright. When?”
“Tomorrow night. Around this time.”
“I don’t want to see you near me at the boarding house. Don’t want that constable thinking I have anything to do with you.”
“You think I do?”
“I don’t know what to think yet. I know I don’t trust you, you wanted to frame me and sell me off to the Bandrans.”
“Yeah, well, you tried to kill me.”
“That was self-defense. I would’ve won that trial.”
“Alright, alright.” Heston had had enough. “Tomorrow night. And if you don’t show…”
“Don’t you worry about me.” Jena snapped. “Now where can folks like us get a proper drink in this hamlet?”
Heston smiled, “The Hung Buck.” Jena rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue. “Four streets down and underground. At the crossroads with the doused lamppost.”
“Do I need a word?” Heston shook his head. “If I see you again, I don’t know you. You don’t exist to me.” He nodded. Jena left him in the lamppost’s halo rubbing the back of his neck.
Goshen and Declan needed to know this news, that the Bandrans had put a price on their heads. If bounty hunters were out looking for a woman ranger and her partner, then they might confuse Kira and Goshen as their prey. Or Declan and Fery or Fery and Goshen or, whatever, she thought. She was angry with herself for not killing Heston when she had the chance. Her cover would work; the boy wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was. But she needed to know more and not just about the bounty.
“Fuck I need a drink.” She muttered as she realized she was at the crossroad that Heston had described. There was a low awning and a sad set of stairs to a door that was far more secure looking than anything in this town needed to
be. Entering the tavern she was struck by the scent of brown leaf, the heat of sweat mixed with the flames from the hearth, and the windowless space was brightly lit with flickering oil lamps. It was hot, full, and no one took any notice of her. She felt at ease immediately.
Approaching the barkeep, she dropped a couple of silvers. The barkeep approached and without looking at her asked “So a bottle then?”
“Barleywine?” She asked, and he nodded. Just then, Jena felt a tug at her elbow. She looked down and saw Adamix smiling up at her.
“Two cups.” Adamix called up to the barkeep.
“What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same.” The barkeep set a couple of pint cups down and a rather fat bottle of barleywine.
“So I take it I’m sharing my beer with you.”
Adamix smiled, “I think it would be mutually beneficial. Come, I have a nice nook already spoken for.” He led Jena across the tavern passed tables of gruff men drinking in sad silence, gamblers eying each other with a keen myopia, a barmaid who was rather obviously giving two men manual satisfaction. Passing this last table, Adamix slow a bit and muttered, “Lovely” in a mocking tone.
Jena rolled her eyes and poked him in the back of the head, “Don’t get any ideas, and I don’t want to have to sit and see that all night.”
Adamix kept on, “No worries. We’re around the corner here, well obscured from these dirty deeds.” There was a squat table protruding from a two-seat nook that looked carved out of the rock that made up the wall. Adamix shimmied his way into the nook waving Jena to sit down and pour the beer.
“So why are you here?” Jena asked as she filled the cups for him and herself.
“Actually, I’m here on rather official business.” He said self-satisfied.
“Oh? I would have thought that your credit had run out at Meg’s place and you’d be looking to slum it with the likes of the clever barmaid there.” Jena drank the barleywine and felt it coat her tongue with a lovely tartness that she wasn’t expecting. She didn’t often drink, but when she did, it was a dangerous affair. This particular brew posed a significant challenge to keep from over-indulging in.
“Why are you so cross with me? Things not go well with your reunion?”
“No, it didn’t go well. But I think you know that.”
“I know no such thing.”
“There’s a price on my head.”
Adamix nodded, “So you’re the ranger.” He wagged his finger at her, “I wanted to think it was someone else but, well, only you would stab Bandra in the eye.”
“It wasn’t like that.” She muttered into her cup. “The job Roth gave me, it went bad. He couldn’t have known.”
“Why aren’t you hunting him down?”
“Cause things went worse for him.” Adamix’s face became suddenly somber.
“Is he alright?”
“As far as I know.” Jena waved off his concerns. “He’s gone north. Finally. But, I don’t know…”
“You going to follow after him?”
“Why would I?”
“Because whether or not you two want to admit it to each other or even to others who know full well,” Adamix let out a long, bothered sigh, “you both want to be together.” Jena didn’t say anything but took a long drink. “Well, I’m glad to hear that he’s alright. Though now might not be the best time to be in the north.”
“No, he’s going far north.” Adamix looked surprised but Jena continued, “But why do you say that? What’s going on?”
“There’s a Spires army amassed near Midhalm. In fact, it’s my official duty to inform independent merchants along the north coast.”
“The Merchant Fleet hired you? How did they hear about this?”
Adamix nodded, “News came out of Ardavass almost immediately and few in the region other than myself know all the nooks and crannies so well and can be trusted to move discretely.”
“Suppose this just adds to your rumor mill.”
“Informants.” He corrected. “How do you think a little shit like me makes a proper living? These Sovi would’ve done away with me years ago. It’s not like you biggies are a tolerant breed.”
Jena shrugged. She’d never born any malice to the Adrenines or even the athingani, but she realized she was among a small number. Even her own kind were split down the middle about how to treat her—a woman acting like a man according to The Cathedral and The Spires or a person acting like a person to the Essians, athingani, and Adrenines. She didn’t like Adamix because he was a bastard, always thinking with his dick. Yet he had been one of Roth’s only friends, so there must have been something redeemable about him. She’d yet to see it, but she kept looking.
“I’m sure Roth can handle himself.”
“Getting around or through an army is no small task. But I don’t disagree with you.” Adamix raised his cup and shook it for more beer. “Now you know why I’m here. What are you doing here? Especially given that you seem to have just discovered someone like you is being hunted.”
“I’m not going to get into it.” She shook her head. “Just know the job went bad. Had to fight my way to meet up with Roth again at our haunt.”
“Up in the highlands?”
“Yeah, and even there, we ended up just barely making it out with our lives.”
“So then why are you back this way? Seems a bit close to Bandra than you should like to be.”
“I didn’t know the Bandrans were after me.”
“You couldn’t have guessed?”
“They didn’t know who I was.”
“How many woman free rangers do you think there are in the east?”
“Guess that’s why I have to head north.” Jena stared into her cup.
“Into the mouth of the beast.” Adamix shook his head. “That won’t be easy.”
“What else is there?”
He shrugged, “South.” The two sat in silence. Then Adamix reached into an inside pocket. He dug around a bit, and then his hand emerged holding a purse. He tossed it on the table, “And that is yours.” Jena reached out a finger and dragged it toward her. She widen the drawstring opening and slide out a few of the aurei inside.
“That’s the half that Roth left with me. For you. If things went bad.” Adamix said.
“Thanks.” Jena replied with no emotion.
“Don’t gush so.” He chided her provoking a weak but genuine smile.
“I want to get drunk.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Be a man, Adamix,” she pushed the coins to him, “and go get use two more bottles. I’ve got things I don’t want to think about.”
Adamix slide out of the nook and seemed to hop to his feet. “As my lady wishes…” He scooped up the coins and disappeared around the corner. Jena slouched holding her head in her hands. She lifted the barleywine bottle and held it upside-down letting the last trickle dribble into her cup. Nothing was going well. A constable was about to discover graves she had made. A petty thug was expecting her to help him in some nonsense. There was a bounty on her head that, at best, would make travel more difficult. Her friends were on course to stumble into the midst of an army. There was nothing she could do. Nothing, that is, but get drunk and stumble out into the street of tomorrow’s dawn.
The Blockade
It wasn’t his ship. It didn’t feel right. Not just because it was a foreign ship, but it was a strange creation. Everything was just slightly off—the misplacement of ordinary or normally forgettable things, the colors of the wood and sail and rope, and the faint hints of Lappala itself. It was what the Lappalans thought a sovi ship was.
‘Sovi’ was a queer word as well. He could still remember the first time he had heard it. Flung out casually and with disdain from the woman’s mouth as she stood in the shadows of the brig giving impatient orders. Then each time the torturer came and worked his art on them, he heard it said to him, said about them. They knew the session was over when the torturer said in his even, i
ncurious tone “Until tomorrow, sovi, when we will learn some more.”
Riv had always considered people just to be people. No, he thought, that was a lie. He had always seen the difference that coin made. How earning riches still set you apart from those born rich, those who had never to think about coin in their lives. He remembered the inarticulate rage he once felt hearing a noble express shock at actually seeing an aureus.
Riv had been a boy, barely in his teens, living in the northern Rautian valley and working at tavern on the high road. Clean and well run, the tavern courted the posh travelers. One night as he was clearing tables, the noble and his valet had entered. Immediately, Riv had been peppered with demands for a room, for food, for drink, to go get their baggage, and to see to their horses. The noble had never looked at him, just talked in that icy, proper Silvincian accent.
“See that he’s compensated, Aleric.” He had said. When the valet fished out a gold coin for Riv and handed it to him, the noble seemed casually amused. “I never knew the aurei were so shiny.” He shrugged off his cloak and held it out to the valet, “No wonder they covet them so.”
Riv had gripped the coin so tightly its embossed image of the Seven Spires pressed a red indentation into his palm that didn’t disappear for hours. That had been the day he had decided to head for the Novostos Sea and become a free trader. He was never going to feel that kind of shame again and never at the hands of such a trivial person.
It wasn’t until he first heard that word, then heard it from the mouth of the torturer that he realized just how much contempt all peoples must have for each other. They were different, the woman and the torturer. They looked different but not dissimilar than he and Cochrane. They were taller, for one. All these Lappalans were tall and slender. Their faces were soft, rounded giving each a haunting beauty. Even the soldiers looked pristine and elegant.
Riv felt like a twisted sore among them, this was what being a sovi was to these people. Thinking about it, Riv would unconsciously grind his teeth. He felt it, the shame, again. This time though he realized what it was—embarrassment. The way the woman had said ‘sovi’ was the way he had said ‘athingani.’ He had hurt athingani the way the torturer had hurt him. So was this going to be his absolution?