Brigid chuckled. “Your father has a way of getting his point across. What made the guild think they could walk in and give orders like that?”
Yaz shrugged. “Mom says they do it all the time in other places. If they get turned away, a gift to the local lord assures them that the offenders are punished. Word gets around and soon no one dares question them. Our village, unlike the others, has six dragons that assure any lord thinking of causing trouble for us pays a high price for the effort. No force led by the nobility has troubled Dragonspire Village in generations. The last one to try and bring us under his control marched with a force of two thousand men. He left with fifty.”
It took most of the day to make the return trip to Sharpsburg. Yaz hoped they wouldn’t have to spend another night, but since only half an hour of daylight remained, they had no choice.
“Let’s get a room and set out at first light,” Yaz said.
“And a bath?” Brigid asked.
“Sure, why not?” Yaz led Thunder toward the inn. The streets were quiet again, but the people were missing from their porches. “Something’s wrong.”
He tightened his grip on his staff. If you’d asked him why, Yaz wouldn’t have been able to tell you, but there was something in the air, a tension. He tied Thunder up in front of the inn and cocked his head. Not a sound emerged from within. At this time of the day the place should have been jumping with early dinner guests.
Brigid raised her own staff, whether from noticing his tension or something else, he wasn’t sure. Yaz eased up to the front door and listened. There was nothing for a few seconds then a dull thud followed by a groan.
He pushed through the door and found three men with clubs standing over John. The innkeeper had blood running from a split lip and a swollen eye. The way he clutched his middle suggested damage there as well.
The thugs were dressed in all tan with black broad-brimmed hats. They looked from John to Yaz and as a group smiled.
“Well, isn’t this handy.” The center man took a step away from John. “I figured we’d have to hunt you two down, but here you are to make our lives easy. The Scriveners Guild doesn’t take kindly to people butting into their business. John here’s been properly educated. Now it’s your turn.”
Yaz locked his emotions away in the secret room and felt himself go cold. “I’m surprised the Scriveners Guild has bully boys. At worst I expected a stern letter. I could have put it in the outhouse for future use.”
“You’re a funny guy,” the guildsman said. “We’ve got ways of dealing with funny guys.”
“Yeah,” Yaz said. “I’ve got ways of dealing with bullies. Why don’t you come a little closer and we’ll see whose way is better?”
The guildsman lunged, swinging his club at Yaz’s head.
Yaz ducked and thrust his staff at the man’s knee. The bone shattered with the force of the impact. The guildsman fell, howling and clutching his broken leg.
Yaz shot the other two a hard glare. “Take your friend and get out while you can still walk.”
They stepped around John and inched closer. Yaz kept his staff raised and ready. He could almost see their minds working as they debated a safe escape versus the humiliation of being run off by a young man half their size.
Hopefully pride didn’t force them to do something everyone, but mostly them, would regret. At last, after hanging their clubs from loops on their belts the nearest man said. “We’ll go, but you haven’t seen the last of us.”
Yaz’s staff snapped out, stopping an inch short of his throat. The bully stiffened and froze. In a cold, flat voice Yaz said, “If any of you come after me again, you’ll be visiting the coffin maker, not the healer.”
The man’s throat worked as he tried to swallow. Whatever he’d expected to happen tonight, this wasn’t it.
Yaz pulled his staff back and nodded toward the door. The uninjured men helped their comrade up and the three of them hurried out of the inn. Yaz gave a little shake of his head as his emotions came flooding back. The impact was far less than when he killed the bandits.
He knelt beside the injured innkeeper. “Anything broken, John?”
“Nah, they just gave me a thumping. Guild boys might get away with beating a man, but even they wouldn’t escape the noose for murder. Don’t think you made any friends tonight, Yaz.”
“I wasn’t looking to make friends, I was looking to make a point. My father used to say that if you show weakness, the world will beat you over the head every day for the rest of your life. I don’t go looking for trouble, but neither do I walk away from it, not if there’s any hope of winning.”
“Do you think they’ll try something else?” Brigid asked. She clutched her staff so tight it trembled.
“I hope not,” Yaz said. “With any luck they’ll tell their superiors that the message was sent and move on. For the gods’ sake, it was one letter. It’s not like we’re setting up shop.”
“Give us a hand up,” John said.
Yaz grabbed hold and pulled John to his feet. “They do anything besides thump you?”
“They ran tonight’s customers off and smashed a few bottles of cheap wine, nothing major. Like you said, the offense was minor. You two need a room?”
Brigid nodded. “Please.”
“But only if having us here won’t cause you any more trouble,” Yaz added.
John waved a hand then winced. “It’s my own damn fault for accepting your offer. Anger got the best of me when I should have known better. Our scribbler has a highly defined sense of his place in the world and won’t accept anything less than what he considers his due. Bah, damn the man and his guild.”
John reached behind the counter, pulled out a key, and slapped it on the bar. “Same room as last time. No charge.”
“Thank you.” Yaz scooped up the key. “If you have willow bark you can make a tea that will help with the pain. If you have trouble breathing or cough up blood, come and get me. I know a little about healing.”
“I’m fine,” John said. “No need to fuss.”
“Okay.” Yaz gave Brigid the key. “I’ll get Thunder settled and join you in a few minutes.”
She nodded and hurried up the stairs. Yaz scrubbed his hand across his face and sighed. So far nothing was going according to plan. Maybe tomorrow would be better.
The nightstand screeched as Yaz dragged it across the floor. Such a little piece of furniture shouldn’t be so heavy. What did John do, fill the legs with lead? He finally got it in front of the door and sighed. That should slow down anyone trying to sneak in.
“What are you doing?” Brigid asked. She sat on the edge of the bed, a glum little frown creasing her face. After what happened, neither of them had the heart to ask for a tub and water.
“Taking precautions on the off chance those guildsmen are stupider than I think. It’s surprising how often people let emotions get the better of their common sense. Did you notice the look on the face of the guy whose knee I busted?”
“Anyone would be mad if their knee was smashed by an ironwood staff.”
“True, but it was more than that. I can’t describe it exactly, but more than simple anger lurked behind his eyes. A hint of madness perhaps.” Yaz shrugged. “Maybe I’m imagining things, but better safe than sorry.”
“Did your dad teach you that as well?” Brigid asked.
“No, Mom did. If those three attacked my father, he’d have killed them all so there’d be no chance they’d return and threaten him again. I didn’t take that path and I fear we may come to regret my weakness.”
“I didn’t do anything. What does that say about me?”
“You did something.” Yaz left the nightstand and sat beside her on the bed. “You watched my back so I could focus on the enemies in front of me. That’s no small thing and don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”
She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thanks. You know, when we left, I wasn’t really sure what I expected to happen on this journey. So fa
r it’s been long stretches of boredom punctuated by terror and violence.”
“If you want to go back—”
“No! No.” She pulled away and turned to face him. “I have no regrets. Whatever happens, it has to be better than what I left behind. At the very least, I’m glad I have you for a traveling companion.”
“Likewise. What do you say we get some sleep?”
“Okay.” She stood and Yaz crooked an eyebrow. “It’s your turn to get the bed, remember?”
So it was. He wouldn’t insult her by refusing. Yaz kicked off his boots, and rolled over on the lumpy mattress, the straw crunching under him as he snuggled in. When Brigid gave him a nod, he reached out and snuffed the room’s single candle. He could do his nightly meditation lying down in the dark.
It seemed Yaz had only been asleep for a few minutes when something rattled, waking him instantly. It was the water jug on the nightstand. A light came from under the door. Someone was out there, trying to get in. Yaz stared at the light, trying to force his eyes to get used to the brightness.
He rolled silently out of bed, slipped his boots on, and collected his staff. He snuck over beside the door and waited. Brigid never stirred from her spot on the floor. Yaz considered waking her but seeing her there would set the men’s minds at ease, hopefully providing him with an opening.
They pushed again and the heavy stand scraped against the floor.
How could she sleep through that racket?
The scraping stopped and a floorboard creaked out in the hall.
Someone slammed into the door, sending the nightstand flying.
Light flooded the room, forcing him to squint. Two men rushed in. He saw tan clothes and struck just as Brigid screamed.
The ironwood staff came down on the first man’s head. Yaz spun and drove the butt of the staff into the second man’s gut, doubling him over.
Yaz caught the lantern as it slipped from the crumpled man’s fingers. When his eyes had adjusted more it became clear that the guildsmen had returned.
The man he’d hit in the gut was lying on the floor moaning, but the first man was still, far too still. Brigid hurried over to him. “What?”
“Our friends from this evening. Check that one please.” Yaz nodded toward the unmoving figure on the floor.
Brigid knelt and rested her head on the man’s chest. Seconds passed and she finally looked up. “He’s dead.”
Yaz grimaced. Must have hit him harder than he thought.
The surviving man half laughed and half coughed before rolling over. “You’ve done it now. You killed a guildsman. There’s nowhere in the kingdom you can run. The guild will hunt you down like a dog.”
Yaz rested the tip of his staff on the man’s chest. “I doubt the penalty for killing two guildsmen is much worse than killing one. You two broke into our room in the middle of the night. What did you expect to happen?”
“I figured you’d be asleep, we’d whomp you a few times, then leave this miserable little town. I mean, who puts a nightstand in front of their door?”
“Someone expecting trouble. I noticed how your leader looked at me when you took him away.”
“Yeah, Crogan didn’t much like you making him look bad. He said coming back was a matter of guild honor.”
“Where’s Crogan now?” Yaz asked.
“Waiting outside with the horses.”
Yaz moved a few steps away and frowned.
“What are we going to do?” Brigid asked.
“We have to make a choice. We can either kill this one and Crogan, dispose of the bodies, and pretend nothing happened or we let them go and hope they forget about revenge.”
“Wait,” the man on the floor said. “You can’t just kill me in cold blood. That’s murder.”
Yaz shrugged. “You’ve already told me I’m as good as dead for killing your friend. Doing away with the rest of you seems like my best choice.”
Brigid grabbed his arm. “Don’t do it. Don’t be evil just because they are.”
“I agree,” the guildsman said. “Let me go and I’ll do my best to convince Crogan to forget about you. I swear.”
“I appreciate that,” Yaz said a moment before kicking the man in the side of the head. “But I doubt it would do any good.”
Brigid stared at him.
“Don’t worry, he’ll live and we’ll have a little head start. Come on.”
Yaz quickly collected their gear and they headed for the stairs. At the bottom a groggy John was waiting with a lit candle in his hand. “What’s going on?”
“The guildsmen returned to finish what they started,” Yaz said. “There are two bodies upstairs, one breathing and one not. We need to make ourselves scarce. It was nice meeting you, but I doubt we’ll be back to this town.”
“I don’t blame you,” John said. He shook Yaz’s hand and kissed the back of Brigid’s. “Good luck.”
Yaz took a step toward the front door and stopped. “Do you have a back door?”
“Through the kitchen, I’ll show you.”
John led them behind the bar and into the cold kitchen. Past workstations and cabinets was a closed door. John lifted the bar and waved them through.
Yaz poked his head out. All clear. He slipped through and eased his way toward the front of the inn. About three-quarters of the way there he spotted Crogan sitting on his horse, watching the door. Two more horses were tied to the railing.
Yaz sprinted towards him, planted his staff and used it to leap into the air. He hit Crogan square with both feet, sending him plummeting to the ground. Before he could recover Brigid ran over and stuck her staff in his chest.
Crogan glared from Brigid to Yaz. “You’re both dead.”
Yaz dusted himself off, walked over, and stomped on Crogran’s broken knee. The man howled and writhed in the dirt. “You’re hardly in a position to make threats. Because of your stupid pride I had to kill a man tonight. If you and your friend come after us again, I’ll be forced to kill two more. I don’t want that. You don’t want that. So move on.”
Crogan clutched his knee and stared daggers. He should smash the man’s head in, there was no question about it, but he wouldn’t, not today anyway.
“We’ll be taking your horses by way of compensation for the trouble you’ve caused,” Yaz said.
He untied the horses, gathered all their reins, and went to the stable to collect Thunder. At least now they wouldn’t have to walk. Mounted, they’d get a good distance before the guildsmen could make trouble.
At least Yaz hoped they could.
Chapter 16
The library in the old imperial tower nearly rivaled the one at the Dark Sage’s citadel, at least Rondo thought so. He didn’t bother with an inventory, but just at a glance he figured there were easily seven thousand tomes covering hundreds of shelves. It was like a scholar’s heaven. He sneezed and rubbed his nose. Could use a little airing out.
He’d been stuck in the library reading a book on rare plants for the past four days. He assumed Lord Black would have some task for him, but he’d assumed wrong. Shade came and went a few times, always with a smile and a wave, but no information. The handful of times Rondo went outside he found no one around and the ruin silent, eerily so. You’d think there’d be birds or bugs or something around, but other than a stray breeze, he might have been alone in the world.
Alone with three giant ships. What could Lord Black be planning to do with them? The nearest large body of water was hundreds of miles east. How did he plan to get them out of the city? So many questions and so few answers.
Rondo closed his book, rubbed his tired eyes, and got out of his moth-eaten chair. Shade had showed him a cupboard stocked with food. He’d get a bite then try his luck outside again.
He’d barely taken a step when the tower door opened and Shade entered. “Rondo! Good news, my friend. Umbra’s arrived and we’re nearly ready to go.”
Rondo nodded like that meant anything to him. “Great, what should I do?”
>
“Come on out and see the ships. Domina and the boss finished installing and calibrating the gems this morning. Umbra’s working the cloud generators now. Come on.”
Forgetting about his lunch, Rondo hurried across the room and followed Shade out into the work yard. He stopped dead in his tracks. The ships were floating about six feet off the ground. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the scene didn’t change. Flying ships, just thinking it made his brain hurt. He’d never heard of such a thing, even at the height of the Dragon Empire.
He shook his head and took a couple more steps so Shade could close the tower door. He finally noticed the lone figure standing under the rightmost ship. He or she, Rondo really couldn’t tell from a distance, almost disappeared in the shadows cast by the hull. No matter how hard he tried, Rondo couldn’t seem to bring the individual into focus.
Instead he tried to puzzle out what the cloaked figure was doing. He had his arms raised and appeared to be attaching something to the bottom of the hull. Probably the cloud generator Shade mentioned.
“Something, right?” Shade clapped Rondo on the shoulder and guided him toward the central ship.
There was a rope ladder hanging down and Shade started climbing. Rondo swallowed the lump in his throat and set his foot on the first rung. The ship held steady and after a shaky start, Rondo picked up speed.
Shade was waiting at the top and helped him over the rail. Rondo took a moment to steady himself then looked around. The layout was basically the same as the other ships he’d been on. The deck was smooth and a square hatch allowed access to the hold. At the rear was a raised area with a helm. Or at least Rondo assumed it was a helm, there was no great wheel to allow steering. In fact, he hadn’t noticed a rudder either.
“How do they make the ship go where they want?” Rondo asked.
“I’m no expert,” Shade said. “But from what I picked up it sounded like there were wind spirits bound to the ship and whoever stands up by that raised part in the back can control where the ship goes.”
The Black Egg Page 12