Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  “What can I get you?” asked the bartender. He was a plain looking man, average height and weight, but with thick forearms from years spent wrangling heavy casks of drink.

  “We’ll take two drinks and a little information,” Pavic said. “Who do we speak to about debts?”

  “That would be Arno,” said the bartender. “Big guy, no sleeves, scar across his nose and one cheek.”

  “Thank you,” Pavic said, placing a silver coin on the bar. It was more than enough to pay for the drinks, but the man behind the bar didn’t offer to make change.

  Pavic took his drink and moved out from the bar. The air was tinged with oily smoke from the many lanterns that were used to illuminate the big room. Pavic and his guard had to navigate between the tables as they searched for Arno, finally finding him sitting alone at one of the gaming tables.

  “Sir, I am here to purchase a debt,” Pavic told him.

  Arno grunted and waved to an empty seat at the small table. Pavic sat down and his guard stood behind him.

  “Whose debt are you interested in?”

  “Torrin of Ortis.”

  “Counselor Torrin, his debt will not be cheap,” the man said, letting Pavic know that there was more than just money at stake.

  “Some people just don’t know when to walk away,” Pavic said.

  “Oh, his debt is not substantial, but purchasing it will cost you extra.”

  “How much?” Pavic asked.

  “His debt is 55 silver, for 100 gold it is yours,” Arno said, his face impassive, his eyes darting around the room as he spoke.

  “That’s not cheap,” Pavic said. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “A counselor from the Court of Kings...,” Arno said, letting his reply sink in before continuing. “That is a debt that is worth something. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Your reasoning is sound, it is your arithmetic that is in error.”

  “I disagree—in fact, I think you are getting a bargain. A young counselor with a gambling problem could be very valuable to the right person. I am thinking you are that person.”

  “Eighty crowns, no more,” Pavic said.

  “Ninety, that is my lowest offer.”

  “Done,” Pavic said. He knew he could have haggled the price down further, but he had grown tired and only wanted to return to his home in the Royal Residence. The fact was, he would have gladly paid the 100 crowns, but he didn’t want Arno to know how important buying Torrin’s debt was.

  He pulled out the bag of coins he had hidden in his satchel and counted out the money. If Arno was impressed with the money, he certainly didn’t show it. Pavic thought he must have developed his impassive gaze over years at the card tables. Once the debt was paid, Arno handed over the marker that showed Torrin’s debt.

  “Thank you,” Pavic said.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Arno said, but without enthusiasm.

  Pavic and his guard made their way through the throng of people and into the fresh night air. It was still hot, but at least the smell of the Fiery Brand was gone.

  “We’ve got trouble,” the guard said.

  Pavic looked up and saw that the other guard had preceded them from the saloon and was now down the street with his weapon drawn.

  “What is it?” Pavic asked.

  “Not sure yet, sir,” the guard replied. “But Sazz wouldn’t have his weapon drawn unless he was sure trouble was coming.”

  “Should we mount up?”

  “Yes,” the guard said.

  They climbed onto their horses and turned them away from the large, ramshackle building. Four men stepped out of the shadows across the street. They had large, curved knives and wore the mismatched clothing frequently used by sailors.

  “One moment, if you please,” said one of the men. “You look burdened and we’d like nothing more than to lighten your load.”

  “Gentlemen,” Pavic said loudly. “We aren’t looking for trouble.”

  “We want the money pouch,” said the sailor.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The one inside your cloak. Don’t mess about, sir, or we’ll cause you more than a bit of discomfort.”

  “This is not my money,” Pavic explained. “I can’t simply turn it over to you.”

  “Then we’ll just take it,” said the man.

  They moved forward menacingly and Pavic’s guard drew his weapon. What the men didn’t know was that the other guard had quietly approached from further down the street. The men on the guard’s left feinted and then the men on the right attacked. They hurried forward, one near the horse’s head, the other trying to angle behind the horse.

  The guard gave a verbal command to the horse, which immediately kicked out with both rear hooves, one of which hit the assailant trying to get behind the horse and sent him sprawling in the muck of the street. The sailor at the horse’s head waved his bright blade menacingly, expecting to frighten the horse, but this was a well-trained battle steed. It simply stepped forward and to one side so that its rider could reach the attacker. The guard swung a simple but hard blow at the sailor’s head. The sailor brought his knife up to deflect the blow but was unprepared for the guard’s strength. The knife saved the man’s life, but he was knocked backward and he stumbled down, dropping his weapon so that he could catch himself on the ground.

  The other two sailors were now moving toward Pavic. The high counselor didn’t move, he sat calmly on his horse and waited. The other guard, Sazz, was moving forward quickly now. He threw a knife at one of the assailants. The man dropped to the ground with the metal handle of the throwing knife protruding from his back. The speaker was the only man still on his feet and when his companion fell, the leader of the group hesitated. He turned and saw the horse charging in. It was too late to escape and he realized he was a dead man. Sazz cut the sailor down with his saber and then took up a defensive position beside Pavic.

  The sailor who had stumbled was back on his feet, but he had no intention of trying to fight two mounted warriors. He slunk off into the night, leaving his companions behind.

  “Is that all of them?” the high counselor asked.

  “I think so,” said Sazz.

  “Good work,” Pavic said. “You have both done well. I shall inform Prince Wilam. Let’s go home.”

  * * *

  “A spy?” Wilam exclaimed. He had spent the evening writing correspondence and had since rewarded himself with a bottle of wine. The spirit had gone to his head and he was very tipsy.

  “Yes, my lord,” Pavic explained. “I shall be discreet.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about you, Pavic. But if one of Ortis’ counselors can be turned, could one of ours?”

  “It is possible, sire, there is no way to avoid it.”

  “I don’t like it. It feels like we’re cheating.”

  “Espionage is part of politics.”

  “Not in my court. I don’t like manipulation and I can’t stand people scheming behind my back.”

  “We have to know what Offendorl is planning, my Prince.”

  “Yes, I know that, but why not turn one of the Torr’s servants to get the information. Surely that would be less dangerous than offending another sovereign kingdom. Your political maneuvering could lead to war.”

  “The servants of the Torr do not have tongues, so getting them to talk about their master is difficult.”

  “He cuts out their tongues?” Prince Wilam asked in disgust. “What kind of animal are we dealing with here, Pavic?”

  “One who is very used to getting his way, my lord. He will need Ortis and Osla in his camp if he hopes to win the council. Torrin will be privy to conversations between Oveer and Belphan. Those two windbags won’t be able to keep from talking about their meetings with the Torr. We’ll be able to plot our strategy once we know for sure what we are dealing with.”

  “It is a good plan, but I still wish you had discussed it with me first.”

  “Forgive me,
sire, but I only wished to ensure that it was possible before burdening you with such a matter. In fact, Torrin may double cross us. He might refuse to share any useful information or, worse yet, lead us astray. We need some way to corroborate the information he gives us.”

  “And you have a plan for that, too?”

  “I do, my lord.”

  “Alright, send for my supper, this wine is going straight to my head.”

  “Yes, my Prince.”

  Chapter 7

  Brianna and Zollin spent the night nearly a mile up the road from where they had previously camped. The long walk in the dark helped each of them sort through their feelings and calm down. They built a small fire to see by and each ate a bit of bread, it was the only food they had left after giving so much to the party of refugees. Then Brianna curled up in her cloak and slept. Zollin kept watch until almost dawn, then he woke Brianna and slept for a few hours.

  The next day they drank water and nibbled on the last of their ration of bread as they rode. Zollin felt stiff and tired, but it was a feeling he had grown used to. They talked about idle things as they rode: the weather, which was getting hot, memories of growing up, the sights they had seen in Orrock. There was still a gap between them and neither seemed ready to bridge it.

  For his part, Zollin was confused. He had been so relieved to find Brianna safe at Orrock after Branock had abducted her that he held nothing about his feelings back. They had spent three wonderful days together. They had toured the city by day and talked late into the evenings. His feelings for her had grown so strongly that he rarely felt guilty anymore over the fact that Brianna had been married to his best friend, Todrek. At night they each slept in separate rooms and Zollin had dreamed of getting married, although he had no idea how to pursue marriage. Brianna had left her family in Tranaugh Shire almost a year before, and with their future still so uncertain, he had decided bringing up matrimony was unwise. He had thought that this part of their journey would be fun, but suddenly Brianna seemed distant. She blamed it on his ability to manipulate her emotions when she wasn’t wearing the White Alzerstone, but that seemed silly to Zollin. He hadn’t done anything to influence the way she felt toward him. In fact, he had tried to deny his feelings for her and discourage her from any affection for him. He had felt guilty that Todrek had been killed as they fled from Tranaugh Shire. He thought she should have stayed behind and mourned her husband, even if they had only been married the day before.

  His feelings for Brianna and her feelings for him were confusing to Zollin, and so he tried to occupy his mind with other things. They passed through a small village shortly before noon. They took the opportunity to rest their horses and buy food. The price of food had risen steeply with the influx of refugees. There were poor, weary-looking people everywhere. Many were in small groups, huddled around their small piles of possessions, resting in whatever shade they could find. Zollin was able to purchase dried meat and some early summer vegetables, but there was no bread or cheese. They bought lunch from an elderly woman who was stewing vegetables in a large pot and charging people by the bowlful.

  They rode on through the afternoon and finally Zollin brought up the subject of archery practice, but Brianna wasn’t interested. They stopped for the night at a village with a small inn. There were a lot of people in the town, but very few had the means to rent a room. Zollin was looking forward to sleeping through the night and retired early. The next day they set out shortly after dawn. Even though he physically felt better, he was tired of the emotional distance that Brianna was keeping and decided to broach the subject.

  “Do you want to tell me what has happened?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” Brianna said.

  “You know what I mean; you’ve been upset with me about something ever since your archery practice.”

  “I’m not upset,” Brianna said unconvincingly.

  “Of course you are, but unless you admit it, I can’t make it right.”

  “What makes you think you have to make something right?”

  “I don’t know; I just want us to be the way we were.”

  “How were we, Zollin?” she asked. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “What do you mean? We were close, remember? In Orrock we were close.”

  “Were we? You could have been just using your power to make me feel that way.”

  “I didn’t, I told you that. I have never tried to use my power on you or make you feel one way or another. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had; you’ve had the White Alzerstone on since before we left Tranaugh Shire. How could I have done anything to you? You know it repels all magic.”

  “I don’t know that,” Brianna said. “I know you’ve told me that, but there’s no proof.”

  “What about when Branock attacked you with fire in Peddinggar Forest? Remember how it rebounded off of you and nearly killed him?”

  “You could have done that and made it look like it was the ring,” she insisted.

  “What? Are you insane? If I could have done that, why wouldn’t I have done it when he attacked me?”

  “I don’t know, Zollin, and that’s the point. Before you escorted me to see the house Quinn was building for me and Todrek, I had no feelings for you whatsoever. Then suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt like I was suffocating in my own life and I was terrified you were going to leave me behind when you left Tranaugh Shire. I can’t explain that. It’s not normal, but you have a way of making people do what you want them to do and all the while they think it’s their own idea.”

  “Brianna, I swear to you, I have never used my power to influence the way you think or feel.”

  “You did the other night.”

  “But that was because you were practicing to face the dragon. I wanted you to feel scared, to know that you could face your fears and still hit the target you were aiming at. That’s the only time I’ve ever done it and it’s the last, I swear.”

  “But I can’t know that for sure, don’t you see? I don’t know if what I have felt was real or magic. I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  The words felt like a searing hot blade being jammed into his chest. He felt his eyes sting with tears, and the magic inside of him burned so hot he could barely contain it. Blue energy crackled along his staff as the magic inside it reached out to join the power that was blazing inside of him.

  “If I haven’t earned your trust by now, then there’s no way you’ll ever trust me,” he said bitterly.

  Brianna looked at him as he spurred his horse forward. He was angry and she hated that. She didn’t want to hurt him, but the more she thought about how easily he had manipulated her feelings, the more unsure she became.

  They camped that night and she took the first watch. Zollin rolled himself in his cloak and tried to sleep. The night was warm and he couldn’t get comfortable. When Brianna woke him, he had done little more than doze. He was tired and melancholy. While Brianna rested, he paced between the road and their little camp. He let his magic flow out all around him. The fire had died and the moon was only a sliver, but the stars were bright and with his magic he would feel someone coming long before he could have seen or heard them.

  He had no idea that Brianna could affect him so much. He was angry that she didn’t believe him and terribly afraid that he had lost her forever. When Branock had abducted her from Brighton’s Gate, he had felt helpless and angry, but that was different. She had been taken from him against her will before, now she was choosing to distance herself. Everything he had been sure of before felt like snow melting away beneath him. Her change of heart made him question everything. Was he making the right choice not going to the Torr? He had felt sure he didn’t want to go with Branock and the other wizards when they arrived in Tranaugh Shire, but if he had, he could have avoided this pain. Could he really fight a dragon? He had felt so strong and so confident before, but now he felt weak and unsure of himself. He wondered what Kelvich would say when they reached Felson. What wou
ld his father say to him now? Quinn was pragmatic and Zollin had never seen him with a woman. After Zollin’s mother died in childbirth, Quinn had lost interest in love and had spent his life raising his son and trying to teach him a trade. Zollin had never been any good at carpentry, he simply had no skill building things with his hands. When he had discovered that he possessed magic, it had been the most wonderful discovery, but now he felt that being a wizard had betrayed him somehow. Could he have really lost Brianna forever? He didn’t know and the more he puzzled over it in his mind, the less certain he became.

  Dawn was a welcome sight and Zollin made them a quick breakfast of porridge. Then he saddled the horses and packed the few things they had used to make camp. When he woke Brianna, she quickly washed her face in some water from one of the extra canteens then dusted off her cloak. She then folded it over the back of her saddle and climbed up onto Lilly for the long day’s ride.