I blinked at him, confused by the change in subject.
“That’s really what the order of the rose and hammer is all about,” he continued. “It’s a compact to do whatever I can to expand and improve those who come under my guidance. With that in mind, tell me- why do we call it the stolen moon?”
I’d not thought of it honestly. It’s just what we called it, ever since I was in school learning about constellations and such. “I guess ‘Stolen’ isn’t just a name?” I asked slowly.
He chuckled. “That would be correct. The story goes that our original moon was used to destroy the land we originally came from, on the other side of Balteris. When two of the most senior gods were pitted against each other by Locklentalis’ guile, the oldest yanked the moon out of the sky with the help of a thousand of his followers to be dropped on his usurpers lands.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. There’s no way that was possible.
“Not at all,” he said. “The fact that we still refer to this one as the stolen moon is key to that stories validity. They didn’t realize the affect this would have on the world. Oceans flooded, life died out, dark creatures were made, predators of us Learners. It was so bad that all of the gods and all of their followers got together and reached into the sky above the sky. They pulled the moon from a long way away, killing thousands and thousands in the process, but restoring nature to how it was intended to function.”
I’d never heard a story as farfetched in my life. “There is no way that’s true,” I replied.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He winked at Volant, who’d stayed quiet. “Either way, it’s part of what expanding your mind is all about. You need to question the things you believe, all the time. The more ingrained it is, the more reason to look at it from a different perspective.
Days went by quickly with all of the training Rook gave us. We entertained for a variety of people, most of them unimpressed. The sparring practices, along with an intricate choreography we created for our “show” was turning me into more athletic shape than I’d thought possible. The full meals probably helped too.
Small muscles I’d gained in the plains of Tryst were developing into almost recognizable shapes. I was becoming quicker and better at just about everything. With Rook leading our training, we went harder and longer than when Volant and I had done our own thing.
After a few days of making good progress and only another three or four more out from Wydvis, we were hit by an autumn storm while stopped at another landing with a family heading in the same direction. It hit with the suddenness that can only be expected at this time of year. A crack of thunder paired with some formidable winds were all the warning we had. Dark clouds filled with angry lightning filled the sky above us. In no time at all, we’d become miserably soaked in the torrential weather. If only we’d stopped at the tavern we’d passed back there.
Twelve
Rook seemed to have less tolerance for being uncomfortable than I’d have expected. “We’re turning around, and getting a warm bed tonight,” he said with such finality neither of us even dared to argue.
“Before you turn around,” the father interjected, “you should just follow us to my friend’s inn. It’s a little further ahead of us than that ramshackle place, but infinitely more comfortable.”
Rook grunted in agreement, and we followed the family through some truly horrendous weather. With the wind pushing us forward, we made it to Luck’s Last Chance. We got the horses in their now overcrowded barn, and a room for the three of us to share and a spot next to a fire in a second common area, the first being too crowded.
Having come in with the family, the innkeeper even gave us a free meal. He was less than friendly, but was definitely close to the family and treated us with a professional courtesy that made up for any lack of warmth. He also had a roaring fire, which was all that really mattered. Drying off as close to the fire as possible we sat in companionable silence. But as we huddled about, a brutish man who barely came up to my chest shouldered Volant to the side and growled something unkind at him.
Volant, who tried to be far more understanding than I’d be, nodded to the man and continued to enjoy the fire as if nothing happened.
Rook was a different story. He followed the thuggish man’s journey across the common area with hawk like focus. His fingers beat an angry rhythm into the table as he watched the man across the room. Apparently, thunderstorms really put Rook into a bad mood.
“Gentlemen,” Rook said, eyes still following the brute. “If there is anything I dislike more than an impolite person in miserable weather, I have yet to find it.”
I followed his gaze to where the man had sat down. The table was almost exactly center of the common area, seating four. Another two men that must have been his brothers, and an extremely tall and wiry one. None seemed overjoyed at their companions return.
“Let’s not draw attention to us,” Volant said. He sipped at some hot cider, closing his eyes with pleasure. “Discomfort exists so we can truly enjoy comfortable things like this.” He cracked an eye and saw that neither Rook or I were enjoying the juxtaposition, and sighed deeply. “Fine, just try to leave me out of whatever y’all get up to.”
Finally, Rook turned back and gave Volant most wicked smiled I’ve ever seen. “How could an entertainer ever turn down the chance for a bit more attention? That would be practically sinful, if there was a god for entertainers.”
I laughed and patted Volant’s arm. “You know I love a bit of attention. It’s probably some deep-seated flaw caused by an uneventful childhood,” I said happily. “So, what’s the plan, Rook?” He grinned and gestured me closer.
I stumbled into the thug’s table, bumping into our target and sending his cup flying. “I am so sorry!” I drawled in my best Kalaran accent. “Please, let me buy you another drink. What are you having?”
“You can get me a rock buster, and I’ll ignore your clumsiness you Stained piece of dung,” the man said gruffly. His brother glared at me from across the small table, picking at his large beard with mindless habit.
“I’ll grab that drink, but Stained?” I asked.
He growled, but seemed smug about knowing an insult I didn’t. “You know, the spawn of a demon and a woman. That’s how Natural’s are made, don’t you know?”
I shrugged, but look back to Volant who’d heard this and had turned an angry red, eyes glinting at the man.
“I’d kill a Stained if I saw one,” the man continued, “they’re a blight on Balteris.
I came back to the table, extra-large tankard in hand. The man took it with a snarl, ignoring me completely. He began to drink, thinking I’d leave. I did not. Seeing me standing there still, he turned a red rimmed eye on me. He drained the enormous mug while his table watched with barely concealed envy. While he finished, I quickly pulled up the closest chair and sat down, gesturing for the server. He brought a tray with another four cups, regular sized, filled with the cheap stuff. The brute was about to object to my joining, but the free drinks stayed his tongue for the moment.
“Again, my apologies for my clumsiness. Since we are all stuck in here tonight, I thought I would see about making some new friends, or at the very least, passing the time with a game. You lot look like a respectable enough group for me to practice with.” I laughed, and then brought out a deck of cards before anyone could take offense. They all seemed to weigh the options. Slow thinkers, these boys. Excellent.
Tall and lanky spoke up first. “What makes ya think we’d want to play cards with ya, boy?”
I gulped audibly, and looked at the four of them. “Well,” I cleared my throat, playing up my feigned discomfort. “Well, I’m trying to become a traveling entertainer, and I do know a couple of cool tricks if you’re interested?” I tried to speak loud enough for the tables around us to get interested, but not loud enough that it was obvious I was trying to. I shuffled the deck, dropping the pile clumsily. The man had a nasty edge to his laugh, and I tried to look sheepish.
“I’m not very good, sorry,” I mumbled.
Short and ugly, sitting next to the tall and lanky one, had already finished his meager cup and looked like he was about to interject. Before he could say anything, I dropped a pair of coins on the table. That got their interest. I fanned out the cards, having the bearded fellow pick one. Just like every card trick began. He showed the others, grinned, and placed it on top of the first half of the deck I had extended out to him. A quick peek at my other hand and I saw the king of stones resting on too so I’d be sure to not pick the card after it. I placed the second half on top of the first, and again tried to shuffle. Still, just as clumsy.
“Now what?” the brute asked.
“Nothing fancy,” I replied. “I’ll flip cards over, face up from the deck and tell you which card was yours.” Card after card was flipped. I stopped, and dramatically looked up. “And this is your card!” I flipped over the next top card, and the men burst out in laughter.
“Nay, son. I had the Lover’s Cup, not the Wizard’s staff.” He and the other men laughed, while I tried to look flustered.
By now, a small crowd had gathered around us, watching with amusement as I again handled the deck like an amateur. I stumbled through a couple of additional shuffles as more people gathered, and I saw Rook moving to the front of the crowd. Our target began to talk loudly of the ineptitude of fools, and specific instances of why I would be better suited as a thick-skulled farmer. Knowing that at least half of these people came from farms, or had family that worked one, I could do nothing but marvel at how easy he was making this for me.
I fanned the cards in front of him. “Pick one, please.”
He snatched a card from my hand, enjoying the attention. The card was shown to most of the people behind him, and to those sitting in the general vicinity. I again extended my hand out with half the deck sitting in it. The other half I had in my right, a quick peek showing the broken sword on the bottom of said half.
I smiled up at him, as pleasant as can be. The card was placed on top of the first half, and I covered it with the second half, placing the broken sword on top of his card with no one the wiser. Then I shuffled again, as clumsily as possible, making sure the middle of the deck was untouched by the supposed shuffling.
Dramatically, I flipped a single card at a time over. Barely five cards in, my broken sword card was flipped over. I continued to the next card, which I now knew was the man’s. He’d drawn the hangman’s tree, which seemed fitting. I showed nothing as I flipped another few cards onto the table. The brute’s eyes gleamed with greed. I stopped, hand hovering over the next face down card in the deck and gave him an unsure smile.
“I can feel it! Are you ready to be impressed?” I asked, finger tapping the face down card.
He laughed, ugly and harsh, knowing his card was already down. “I still think you’re a fool, boy,” he replied, somehow smug and surly at the same time.
Instead of replying, I pushed the coins I’d set down towards the middle of the table. “You willing to bet on that?” I asked.
He looked at me with disbelief, trying to fathom how stupid I was. And then that greed got him, just like Rook said it would. “If you want to bet, how about we make it worthy of a man?” Casually, he dropped his purse of coins on the table. “This too much coin for a boy like you, eh?”
Ah, so he was a thief as well. No way he carried that kind of gold around unless he’d just taken it from some poor wretch he hit over the head on the road. I reached inside the still wet cloak I wore and pulled out a purse.
We had put a tidy bit of coin into it. Gods only know where Rook had so much stored about him. “This looks ‘bout right. All of it’s yours if you think the next card I flip over isn’t the one you picked.” I stopped trying to look nervous, or unsure of myself. The crowd, who was certainly on my side at this point, began to mutter nervously, most knowing which card was his. Most assumed I was about to make a huge mistake and didn’t want this guy to benefit from it.
Rook had been teaching us the more frowned upon tricks of a low-grade con artist. Our number one ally: other people’s greed. Not many would take a bet with so much at stake, but when you think you’re guaranteed a win, suddenly logic goes out the window.
“Fine, but don’t go crying to your boyfriend when I take all your coin,” he replied. A final swig from his too-large mug, and then he pushed his purse next to mine.
“I want to see them shake on it,” Rook said, posing as a bystander in the crowd.
I put out my hand, and the brute squeezed it hard. Everyone held their breath, as I reached up to pull the top card off the deck. The brute’s face looked manic with greed. Instead of pulling it off though, I took the whole deck with my hand and set it down. Returning the grin, I reached over to the face up cards, and flipped the Hangman’s Tree over in front of him.
First, his eyes went wide with shock. Then, they narrowed as the anger spread. A red flush crept up his neck to match. The applause and laughter of the crowd did nothing to help. With my most roguish chuckle, I began to place all the coins on the table into my small coin purse.
His temper snapped, and he lunged across the table. Luckily for him, his friends were quicker and pulled him back into the seat, holding him. I stood up and took a bow as more applause came from the crowd. Nearly skipping, I went back to our table near the fire.
“That was well done,” Rook said approvingly.
Volant leaned in, less pleased. “Of course, most people don’t enjoy being made fools of. There’s a good chance they’ll try something now.”
Yet again, I had not considered the repercussions. Volant was right. They were probably plotting a solid beating and robbery as we spoke. I looked back across to their table, and saw the brute glaring unblinkingly in my direction.
Unlike us, Rook seemed thrilled. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Hope you boys are ready for a spot of violence.”
Volant and I both blinked in surprise. “I thought you wanted to teach them a lesson,” Volant said incredulously. “Not start a fight!”
“Pretty much the same thing. I want it to be a really good lesson,” Rook replied.
I sighed. “Fair. At least we have you with us.”
Rook looked even happier. “Don’t be silly. This is also training. You two shall be on your own!”
“But, I wasn’t involved. Can’t we practice staying warm by the fire?” Volant asked, an edge of hope in his voice.
Rook just shook his head. We passed over any coins and weaponry to Rook, who quickly made everything disappear under that irrationally useful cloak and robe. He made his way to an inconspicuous corner to enjoy the show.
“He’s insane,” Volant whispered to me. Underneath the table, he was stretching out wrists, limbering up. “Maybe they’ll turn out worse at brawling than expected.”
I took a leather strap I’d begun wearing on my left wrist. I wound it around and in between my fingers, protecting my knuckles with a bit of padding.
Volant saw this and sighed, coming to terms with the situation. He smiled suddenly, and loosened his own cloak with a small shrug. It hung off his shoulder like a cape. He almost looked like a hero from a play, and I laughed freely at the thought of him as some kind of king in disguise.
“Sorry,” I said, still laughing. “I had a funny thought about you looking like a king in disguise.”
“Wouldn’t that be a sight to see,” he agreed with a laugh. Then, I passed cards out, and we slowly played a simple game while we waited. It didn’t take long.
“May the best man win,” Volant whispered with far too much excitement considering how against this he was just moments ago.
Glancing back behind me, I saw the brute staggering towards us across the room. Fire burned in his eyes with a frightening intensity. I gathered the cards, placing them safely in a pocket. Volant hid his right hand under the cloak. He held himself casually, not appearing to look anywhere in particular.
Long heartbeats went by.
The tension was palpable in the inn. A quiet had spread, and I knew the ugly brute was standing right behind me. A collective intake of breath as everyone else saw what looked like me about to get my skull smashed in. Cowards. Not a one even tried to warn me.
Volant, acting as if he was asleep with eyes barely open, nodded. I ducked my head in response, a tankard passing harmlessly through where I’d been. I didn’t see what Volant did next. I spun out of my chair, low. Knee flying out with the spin towards the man.
The brute was evidently surprised as he smashed that huge tankard into the table. I planted my knee in his thigh. That was going to leave a mark. I came up with the chair in my hand. Whipping it into the brute causing it to break into pieces. But, he was knocked back into the arms of Tall and Lanky who somehow looked even more surprised than the brute. Bits of wood were flying everywhere as I took in the scene.
Volant threw the cloak over one of the brothers, blinding him. As he tried to get the soaked cloth off his head, Volant mercilessly pounded away at the man’s ribs before delivering a stunning open-handed blow to the man’s head. Rook had been teaching us all the finer points of not punching people in the head with a closed fist.
I looked down at what was left of the chair. A broken leg, which was about to embark on its second life as a club. I moved towards Volant, but the brute wasn’t done apparently. Even more pissed off, the tall and lanky one pulled out what had to be the least hygienic knife I’d ever seen. It was stained with rust and blood and was more a saw than a knife from all the chips in its edge.
One of the patrons let out an excited yell. “Fight!”
The room exploded into degenerate chaos. If there ever was proof that violence was contagious, this was it.
Brother with the beard leapt at Rook, wielding what looked like a giant fish hook he’d pulled from who knows where. Apparently our tutor wasn’t going to get to sit this one out after all. Probably for the best, considering it’d turned into something a bit bloodier than just a brawl. Another man, not even apart of the original crowd, also went at Volant. A pair of brass knuckles flashed as he took a swing.
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