by F. E. Hubert
sword was still.
He couldn’t say he disagreed with the sentiment, he had to bite his lips a couple of times already that day. His presence convinced the keeper of every inn and tavern they visited that Rheena was a Lady. You could see the hospitality get turned up as they took in her appearance, then added that of the warrior behind her and concluded she must be Somebody. He had to admit the polite attitude was nice, but he suspected the prices rose accordingly. Rheena seemed close to making a deal with this one though, so he went to stand outside in the hallway.
The room was on the top floor of the three-storey tavern, right above the entrance. A flight of stairs connected it to the common room. The only other door in the passage opened to a minute storage closet holding a solitary broom and bucket. Slivers of daylight fell through a narrow window, dancing with the dust motes before forming a pattern of crooked squares on the plank floor. It looked out on the dirty fronts of buildings across the street, most taverns and inns like the one they were in.
“Overlooking the city’s taverns and bars, that’ll do wonders for our beauty sleep.” The sword said in a low voice.
Mufroen thought it was a wonder anyone could sleep at all in this city, filled with a thousand noises and smells, but he kept silent as the innkeeper bowed his way out of the room and into the hall. He said something pleasant to Rheena with a greasy smile. When he trotted down the stairs, Mufroen stepped into the room with a deep bow and a flourish of his mantle.
“May I disturb The Lady, my lady?”
She threw one of the two large pillows on the bed at him with a laugh.
“Your fault, with your menacing glower.”
“I most certainly do not glower,” He crossed the room to look out on the street again. Irregular shards of coloured glass depicted what he guessed was the inn’s weapon. It kept him from seeing more than vague shapes on the other side. “My face is just not made for all that movement you put into it.” She made a face at him that seemed to move about all the muscles she had, before she reached out and drew him into the bed.
Job for a sword
As he tore a piece from the coarse bread that came with the meat and bean stew, Mufroen took his time to look around the common room.
The bar was built against and partly into the wall left of the entrance. Behind it, the innkeeper was filling mugs and cups with beer and wine. A large table with benches along the sides took up most of the room. About two dozen people sat at it in clumps of two and three, eating and drinking.
A row of smaller tables lined up against the wall opposite the bar. A long bench covered with faded pillows provided seats on the side of the wall, rickety chairs faced it at all of the seven tables.
Mufroen sat at last table, the farthest he could sit from the door and the bar, a good place to keep an eye on the door next to the bar that led to their room. Rheena was still up there, washing and changing.
Only one of the other small tables was occupied, the one at the other end, near the door. The man sitting at it must have been strong as an ox when he was younger. He still had the raw-boned frame and broad shoulders, but the roundness of his stomach suggested too many nights spent drinking too many drinks and his skin had a greyish, waxy gleam. He pretended to stare into his cup, but Mufroen couldn’t help notice that he kept a sharp eye on the door and everything that happened inside the tavern.
A tremor at his hip warned him before the man moved. Mufroen rose from his chair as the other man started to get up. They looked at each other for a moment, then the big man grinned, showing a dark hole where one of his front teeth used to be.
“Good reflexes.” He said, stepping up to a respectful distance and offering his hand. Mufroen shook it, and as he expected he felt the tell-tale calloused ridges of a swordsman.
“Jan,” The big man said, pointing at the table next to Mufroen with a question on his face.
“Mufroen.” He said, sitting back down on the bench with a gesture that Jan was welcome to join him. Jan dropped his weight down heavily on the bench next to him, scanning the room as he did.
“Waiting for someone?” Mufroen asked, pushing his empty bowl away.
“Was,” Jan smiled, less heartfelt than before. “Looks like I’m being stood up, don’t it.” He threw Mufroen a sideways glance. “Got a job needs doing.”
“Hmm..?”
The man had the unmistakable air of desperation and Mufroen doubted he had anything on offer he’d want to be doing. But he was a fellow swordsman and in any case it couldn’t hurt to hear him out. Especially since the room had cost them almost all the money in Rheena’s purse.
“Need some muscle tonight,” Jan held up two fingers at the landlord for drinks. “Dangerous job, but just protection.” He waited until the landlord left their tables and produced a small leather purse. He tossed it from hand to hand, looking at it with a serious expression. Mufroen could hear the muffled sound of coins clicking against each other.
“Five silvers in advance,” The man dropped the purse on the table and prodded it toward Mufroen. “Double that tomorrow morning, if you make sure I make it through the night in one piece.”
Mufroen looked up from his drink in surprise.
“You need a bodyguard?”
“Not sure,” The big man sighed in his cup before he downed the content. “Been told to meet someone. Has that feel, you know…”
Mufroen thought he knew exactly what the other man meant.
Rheena stepped through the door next to the bar. When she saw that he was talking, she sat down at the bar to give them privacy, but Jan noticed Mufroen’s glance in her direction and got up to leave.
“Worst case, you have five silvers to spend on a pretty girl,” He indicated the bar with a tilt of his head.
“Difficult when I’m dead.” Mufroen pointed out.
“You’re from out in the high desert aren’t you?” Jan pursed his lips in an amused expression. “Knew someone from up there,” He turned to Mufroen, really smiling now. “If you’re half as good, I’m not worried.”
A laugh escaped Mufroen’s throat. “I wouldn’t know about that, but you make a convincing argument. Where should I meet you?”
The sword at his side vibrated in an annoyed tremor.
“The warehouse behind The Duck at sundown. It’s on the western edge of the harbour. Anyone there can point you to it.” With that he handed him the purse and slipped through the side door to kitchen.
“Glad to see it’s not hard to sucker you into doing something stupid.” The sword said. Mufroen waited for Rheena to join them before he answered. She sat on the chair across from him with a curious expression.
“Five silvers is a lot of money,” He took a sip from his cup while the innkeeper served Rheena her lunch. “Fifteen’s even more.”
“You’ll never get those last ten, and you’ll be lucky to keep the five. You do understand that much, I hope?” The sword said.
“That is a lot of money.” Rheena said.
“At the risk of stating the obvious: It’s too much money.” The sword added.
“Don’t worry, I noticed that he parted with those silvers a bit too easily. Then again, money means little when you’re scared for your life.”
“So, you’re doing it from the kindness of your heart now, is that is?” The sword snorted.
“We need money. This way we have at least five silvers.”
“And what is Rheena supposed to do with those? Pay for a nice ceremony down at the harbour?”
“Are you saying we’re no match for that wash-out and his friends?” Mufroen glanced down at his hip, waiting for the sword to rise to the bait.
“Of course we are. In a straight up fight,” The sword bristled. “But chances are, they jump us and give us a little swimming lesson. With a rock tied to your hands, in case you have water fright.”
“Well, I would get the diving lesson. You’d just have to get used hanging on another belt.”
“What?” The thought obviously hadn�
��t occurred to the sword. Hearing the horror in his voice, Mufroen felt sorry for the jibe.
“Just joking,” He reached down and patted the sword’s hilt. “I’ll throw you in the water myself, if there’s any risk they’ll get you.”
“And leave me to an eternity in a watery grave? You—”
“Stop teasing him, he might hit you over the head next time you draw him,” Rheena sounded only half amused by their bickering. “And you,” She bent a fraction so she could look past the edge of the table. “Don’t listen to him, he’d lay waste to the city before he’d let anyone take you from him,” She turned back to Mufroen again. “I see how you look at him, so stop pretending you don’t care. It’s not becoming.”
She sounded so prim that both Mufroen and the sword laughed. Luckily all the other guests in the tavern were too preoccupied to notice that Rheena had a remarkably heavy laugh for such a petite woman.
All in a night’s work
“I still say it’s a bad idea,” Mufroen found the harbour without difficulty and after asking directions to the bar, they now stood in an alley across from The Duck. On the other side a cramped passage led away. The sword still moped. “We could just not go?”
“I’m pretty sure Jan will want his money back if we do that, plus interest. Besides, he’s counting on me to help him.”
“We could move inns?”
“How many desert tribesmen are there in the city, you think?” He cocked an eyebrow down at the sword. “We need the money, and I don’t mind giving Jan a hand if he’s