“Yes, but…” The guard appeared confused, brows furrowed.
“Well, those men had better catch whoever is in that cart.”
Guards descending the stairs drew Rawk’s attention. They had a man and a woman between them, the woman blonde and around Narine’s age. Her hair was a mess, and she was naked, save for a blanket held against her chest. The man wore nothing at all, walking with his hands cupped over his groin. A guard stepped on the blanket, pulling it from the woman’s grip, revealing enough to make Rawk’s eyes go wide. He turned away, his face growing flush. It was the first time he had seen a woman naked, human or dwarf.
“Sir, we found these two upstairs,” a guard said before pulling the woman forward. “This woman has golden hair. Is it her?”
Rawk looked back to find the woman covered once again, Captain Pilson approaching her while giving visual examination.
The captain shook his head. “Can’t be. She’s too tall, and her eyes are green. The princess has blue eyes and…” His gaze shifted lower, “more meat on her body than this one.”
“Captain,” another guard said. “There is one room upstairs we cannot check. We tried all the keys, but the door won’t open.”
Rawk looked at Rhoa, their eyes meeting. It was obviously the room Rhoa was to share with Narine and Adyn. He saw the concern in her eyes, matching the churning in his stomach. What would happen if they captured the princess?
Captain Pilson asked, “Do any of the keys turn the lock?”
The man blinked. “Um. Well, yes.”
The captain sighed. “And what did you do after the lock turned?”
“I tried to open the door, of course. It didn’t budge.”
“Didn’t you think someone may have barricaded the door from the inside?”
The guard’s eyes went wide. “I…”
“Go break down that door!” the captain bellowed.
The three guards hurried upstairs, leaving the shaken couple behind.
Pilson spun on his heel and rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. “Why, Gheald? Why must I be surrounded by idiots?”
Despite the tension over the prior few minutes, Rhoa Sulikani almost burst out laughing at the captain’s complaint about his men. She glanced at Salvon, meeting his gaze. He appeared to have things under control, claiming ignorance regarding Narine.
A ruckus arose from upstairs – thumping, cracking, stomping, grinding of wooden furniture scraping across the wooden floor. It then grew quiet until the guards rushed back down the stairs, stopped at the bottom, and looked at each other.
“Well?” the captain asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Um, sir…,” one of the guards said, pausing to visibly swallow. “It appears they slipped out the window.”
“That should be no issue. We have the building surrounded.”
Another guard replied, “We did, but…”
“But what?”
“When the cart sped from the stable, the men in the rear followed, and–”
“They all followed? Nobody stayed behind to guard the rear exterior?”
“It appears so, sir.”
The captain drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “Imbeciles. All of you are imbeciles!” The man strode toward the door. “Let’s go find them. The gates are locked, so they couldn’t have gone far. If they escape, Charcoan will not be pleased.”
The guards rushed from the room, leaving the stunned patrons behind. The naked couple hurried upstairs. Numerous tables emptied as those not staying at the inn quickly departed for the evening. Sensing the risk abated, Rhoa stood and walked over to Salvon, Rawk shadowing her.
“Are you all right?”
The old man waved it off. “I am fine. Over the years, you would be surprised how many times I have been questioned by city guards.”
Rhoa glanced around. Other than Rawk and Salvon, nobody was nearby, the room mostly cleared. “The high wizard seems intent on capturing the princess,” she said in a hushed voice.
Salvon muttered, “Yes. I suspect he wishes to get in the good graces of the man he believes will replace Taladain.”
“You sound as if you think otherwise.”
He stood, clutching his lute to his chest. “In my experience, these things rarely play out as one might expect.”
They headed up the stairs at an easy pace. All doors at the top stood open save one, likely the room where the couple had retreated. The door to the women’s room was broken, cracked down the middle. All three beds lay tipped on their sides, and the window stood open. Nothing of Narine or Adyn remained. Rhoa thought the women had taken everything, until she found her own cloak on the floor beneath a mattress.
“It appears we are now down to three,” Salvon said. “There is no need to pay for a second room since there are enough beds in here for all of us. Can you two clean this up while I go pay the city guards a visit?”
Rhoa turned toward him in concern. “The guards? Why?”
“Well, judging by what we heard, someone stole my cart.”
“I was wondering about the cart. The men said it raced off. That doesn’t sound like Jabbers.”
Salvon shook his head. “It certainly does not. I suspect another horse was used.”
“Who would do such a thing? Why steal your cart in the first place?”
Placing a finger to the side of his nose, Salvon gave her a knowing look. “Think on it. What was the end result?”
She considered the question. The guards from the stable yard had followed it, leaving the yard empty.
“It was Jace,” Rawk said. “Wasn’t it?”
Salvon’s smile widened. “I believe so.”
Rhoa blinked in puzzlement. “Jace risked himself to save Narine from being captured?”
“It appears so.”
The old man slipped away, leaving Rhoa alone with Rawk. Perhaps I should give him more credit. Perhaps he isn’t quite as unethical as I thought.
Trey Garvin had always wanted to be a soldier. Growing up in Eleighton the son of a miner, his first desire was to escape the mountain city and see the world. His father beat him frequently, and he longed for the training to stand up for himself. In fact, he wished to stand up for others who couldn’t fight on their own. So, at the age of sixteen, he had joined the Farrowen Army.
He wasn’t a big man, but he worked harder than others, paid attention to details, and was quick to think and react when others froze up. When he volunteered to join the Murguard, he knew the risks. Only two types of men went to The Fractured Lands – the best warriors and the worst humans. Only one type returned. Sometimes he wondered which. The unseen scars he carried could be from either.
Early in his five years of fighting horrors, Garvin met Captain Despaldi, whose life he once saved. Many men had died that day – a day of betrayal, a day of regret, a day of darkness. The shadow of that day still hung over him, like an apparition at the edge of his vision, fading away whenever he turned toward it.
Still, he had survived his stay in The Fractured Lands. With his service, he earned the rank of lieutenant in the Midnight Guard, the elite Farrowen force run by Captain Despaldi. While the captain allowed few to get close, Garvin believed he knew the man better than most. Earning Despaldi’s trust was a goal few could hope to achieve, but he had done it, and that was why the man had left him alone in Starmuth to watch for Landish or the amulet.
All this went through Garvin’s mind as he watched the frustrated Starmuth captain and his guards storm from the The Golden Chalice. While the captain had left unsatisfied, Garvin had found the encounter informative. He had lost track of Landish, but the thief wasn’t important. Only the amulet mattered.
He stood and crossed the taproom to the front door, pausing at the entrance to glance back. A girl matching the description of the one from the menagerie spoke with the old storyteller. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place, forming a picture quite different from the tale the old man had recited to the Starmuth guards. He mentally re
traced the entire evening.
Garvin now knew why Landish had returned to The Gilded Goose to claim his horse. The stable hand had been well paid to alert Garvin the moment the thief resurfaced. Hurriedly donning his black cloak, he had run out to follow the thief. Fortunately, Landish had been too preoccupied to notice.
First, the man had visited a seedy inn. When he left, a rough-looking man took his horse and headed toward the south gate. Garvin then followed Landish until he climbed the side of a building and crept across the roof. Doing his best to follow from the street, Garvin stopped in front of The Golden Chalice. When the man who had taken the thief’s horse passed by and disappeared down the alley beside the inn, Garvin knew something was afoot. He had entered the inn for further investigation mere moments before the guards arrived.
The old storyteller and the girl were evidently involved, as were the princess and the thief. Whatever had happened to Taladain, regardless of the rumors, it had involved the lot of them. Surely they possessed the amulet, and he now had to find a way to claim it without alerting the Starmuth guards.
Recalling the menagerie, he grinned. Rather than chase them down, I will lure them into our hands. A few well-placed rumors…
He needed to buy some time, so he rushed off toward the south gate, intent on finding the cart before the old man could claim it.
4
Parlay
The air was damp and growing worse as fog rolled in. The rooftops had begun to gather moisture by the time Jace found a spot where Narine could climb down without falling. Once on firm footing, he led the two women down dimly lit streets and dark alleys, careful to avoid areas where guards might be posted.
Turning down a street where buildings backed up to the north wall, he paused as two bouncers hauled a pair of men through a tavern door before shoving them into the street, the men falling to their hands and knees. Judging by their clothing and rings in their ears, the drunk men were sailors. Jace knew the docks lay just outside the wall behind the tavern, so the sight was unsurprising. Climbing to their feet and stumbling, the sailors headed down the street. One put his arm about the other as the two men began to sing, both horribly out of tune and swaying with each step.
The toughs who had hauled the men outside stood at the door, thick arms crossed over barrel chests, neither moving until the sailors turned the corner and faded from view. They then retreated into the tavern, rowdy laughter coming through the doorway before it closed.
Jace grinned. “We are going in.”
“In there?” Narine asked, sounding doubtful.
“Just follow and do as I tell you.” He set off without waiting for a reply, reaching the door and stepping inside with the girls following.
The taproom was crowded, chaotic, and noisy. A fair number of the patrons appeared to be sailors, spending their hard-earned coin as they chased a bit of fun while in port. Some appeared to be deep into their cups, bleary-eyed and slurring. Others sought a different sort of entertainment, with women beneath their arms or on their laps. Jace ignored those men and did his best to deny his rumbling stomach as he searched the room. Finally, he spotted a table in the corner with men standing behind others who were seated.
“This place is seedy,” Adyn said, grinning.
“This place is disgusting,” Narine added.
“This place is perfect.” He turned toward them and held out his hand. “Give me all the coin you have.”
Narine frowned at his open palm. “I’m not having you spend our last coppers on ale.”
Jace sighed. “Listen. We need to get out of this city. I am going to make it happen, but you need to trust me.”
“I would sooner trust a goat to not eat my shoes,” Narine said. However, she handed him the meager remains of her coin purse. “This is all we have.”
He opened it and found six coppers, adding them to his own collection, bringing them to one silver and eight coppers. “It’s not much, but it’s enough.” Placing his hand on Narine’s shoulder, his tone grew soft and serious. “You must place your faith in me. I know how to handle these people. No matter how it looks, just go along with whatever I do.”
Narine started to say something when Adyn put a hand on her arm, stilling her.
“We understand,” Adyn said, Narine’s expression souring.
Thank the gods, Jace thought as he gripped the coins in one hand while making his way across the room. He reached the cluster at the corner and weaseled his way between two big men. At the table, one man shook dice while three others waited for their turn. A pile of coppers occupied the middle of the table.
“Mind if I join?” Jace asked.
The sailor to his right, a tanned man with a shaved head, a ring through his nose, and a nasty scar across the side of his face, gave Jace a measured look. “You got the coin to play? Three coppers get you in.”
“Done,” Jace said, dropping three coins onto the table while pulling out a chair.
The man grinned. “I’m happy to take your coin.” He pointed to a big man with a curly, black beard across the table. “This is Earl,” His finger shifted to a tall man with red dyed hair. “That’s Thrash.” While gesturing to Jace’s left, he said, “His name is Darby.” The man thumbed his own chest, his jerkin loosely tied and revealing brown hair beneath. “I’m Zard.”
“Nice to meet you gents. I’m Jace. You appear to be sailors. Are you on the same crew?”
Zard nodded. “Yeah. For years now.”
“Great.” Jace rubbed his hands together. “Let’s throw.”
Patrons surrounding the table placed side bets while Jace and each sailor took a turn throwing the dice. Zard won the first round, Earl the second, Darby the third. Jace was rapidly running out of funds, which was the plan. He lost again and again until he had only one copper on the table.
Narine leaned over his shoulder and whispered, “You told us to trust you. Now you lost all but our last copper. We can’t even get a room for the night.”
Turning toward her, he replied in a hushed voice, “We will have a room and more. Get ready, because you are about to join the game.” Turning toward the table, Jace said in a loud voice, “It appears you men have sapped my funds.” He gestured toward Narine and Adyn. “However, my two companions have just agreed to up the ante.”
The men looked at Adyn and Narine with furrowed brows.
Jace spun back toward the two women. “Don’t be shy, ladies. Remove your cloaks. Let the men see what kind of prize they have the chance to win.”
Narine’s eyes flashed with fire until Adyn elbowed her. With resignation on Narine’s face, both women removed their cloaks. Adyn’s tight, leather jerkin was half-laced, as was the small undershirt beneath it, revealing tanned skin and lean, muscular arms. She smiled, her eyes issuing a silent challenge.
To Jace’s relief, Narine played along, smoothing her dress and drawing all eyes along the path of her hands. She hardly needed to do so. The dress was still wet and clung to every curve. Stifling his grin, he turned toward the table. Every man stared at the two women, expressions ranging from arched brows to lecherous smirks.
Jace rubbed his hands together. “These two are willing to offer the winner of the next round a night to remember.”
The four sailors at the table grinned.
“However, if I win, you each owe me five coppers, and I want a cabin on your ship.” The sailors all looked at Zard. Jace had already noticed they deferred to the man. “What say you, Zard? Do you feel lucky?”
The man stroked his goatee with two fingers, his eyes narrowed. Finally, he nodded. “It seems a fair price for what you propose.”
Jace grinned and scooped up the dice cup with one hand, the dice with the other. As he dropped the dice into the cup, Zard gripped his wrist.
“You throw last,” the sailor said in a grim tone.
Narine did her best to appear nonchalant as she stood there, her wet dress still clinging to her body. It seemed as if every eye in the building stared at her and
Adyn. She had come close to losing her composure when Jace offered her and Adyn up as part of his bet. When he requested passage on a ship should he win, she understood his intent. She just prayed he knew what he was doing.
Then Zard grabbed Jace by the wrist, stopping him from throwing. The sailor took the cup, shook, and tossed. Four sixes, a two, and a one. The throw would have been good enough to win all but one of the prior games. Narine began to feel ill as thoughts of the nasty man surfaced. Even if Jace loses, I will not bed Zard or any of the others. Just thinking of them placing their filthy hands on her caused her to start drawing on her magic without realizing it.
The other three sailors took turns with the dice, each tossing lesser throws than Zard. When the dice cup was passed to Jace, the thief appeared nervous. He shook the cup, and Narine held her breath.
Someone shoved Narine in the back, sending her stumbling toward the table, her hands sliding across it as she landed on her chest with her face just above the pile of coins. She pushed herself up and noticed the sailors at the table all staring. She looked down, finding the neckline of her dress pulled down to reveal a startling amount of cleavage.
“Sorry.” Standing upright, she lifted the front of her dress to a more appropriate height and stepped back.
Jace resumed shaking the cup, the action reclaiming the attention of his opponents. He threw the toss, the dice bouncing, rolling, and settling. Five of the dice showed six dots, the last die a one.
“I win!” Jace said excitedly, scooping up the dice and dropping them into the cup while the sailors looked on in obvious disappointment. “Cheer up, fellas. Most of you still came out ahead.” Standing, Jace scooped up the pile of coins from the table. “I had better use this to pay for a room. We will see you men in the morning. What is the name of your ship anyway?”
Zard’s face was held in a scowl, and Narine feared the man might start a fight. To her surprise, he leaned back. “Starlight Chaser. It’s a three-masted vessel tied to the west pier. We make for Shear an hour after sunrise. The captain’s name is Overton, but when you arrive, ask for me.”
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