by V C Sanford
Glancing at a nearby storefront, Alex caught a brief impression of an unkempt body reflected in the glass, just before someone clamped a hand onto his shoulder. Caught completely off guard, he panicked. Twisting left, he kicked out with his foot, catching the unknown man directly above his knee. His assailant crumpled, allowing Alex to break free. Fear overwhelmed sense, sending him into a panic-stricken run that took him up and down alleys, through buildings, over fences and random stairways, and occasionally back toward the festival until he could no longer see anyone on his tail.
Gradually he slowed his pace to a walk. Now he needed to rest and get his wind back. But where? Spotting the crowded shop of a meat vendor Alex took a chance and slipped inside. Instantly, he realized his mistake. Dropping to the floor, he somehow managed to avoid the heavy metal meat cleaver as it passed over his head. Chips of wood flew thru the air as the blade bit deeply into the shop's framework. The angry proprietor strained to dislodge the cleaver, eager to remove his uninvited guest before the ongoing pursuit arrived to wreak havoc on his business.
Alex scrambled for an opening, hoping to escape with his head intact, slipping under the low wooden counter at the rear of the butchers’ stall and out into the crowded lane, somehow avoiding a collision with two desert clad revelers who were passing by.
Faced with a choice between the two unknown nomads (and possibly two experienced swordsmen) and the hotheaded butcher and his cleaver, he panicked and froze. Which way? To the left was a busy market lane, to the right a narrow alley that opened into another crowded market district.
Right. His decision made, Alex lunged, only to be tripped up as the corpulent butcher tackled him from behind. Pain shot down his left side as his shoulder slammed into the rough stone corner of the building facing the alley. The jarring pain brought tears to his eyes and caused him to drop his pack. The meat cutter used his weight to his advantage, rolling on top to pin his face down. Alex reacted without thought, snapping his head back into the face of his assailant. Blood erupted from the man’s shattered nose. The butcher sat backward, his hands clutched to his bleeding face, swaying slightly from the pain.
Finding his arms miraculously free, Alex heaved his body upwards, throwing the dazed man off balance. Squirming free, he snatched up his pack, grinned at the two amused desert men and sprinted away.
********
Maxx studied the crowd from his hiding spot beneath the brightly colored tarp surrounding a closed pottery stand. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him, everyone was watching Alex’s antics with the sword. Now was his chance. He crawled toward a nearby weaver’s booth. Once inside, he wove his way through the stacked bolts of cloth to the rear of the booth and out the back side. The crowd gathered near a meat roll vendors cart looked large enough to block him from view, he took a chance and joined a group of women heading in that direction. The food vendor’s cart was backed up to an old stone building, and better yet, next to it was a dimly lit alley. Offering a silent plea to whichever God might be listening, he made a break for the narrow opening.
Ten feet into the passage he hesitated, overcome by the horrific odor. The nearby businesses must have been using the alley to dispose of their urine and other waste matter, the smell was appalling. Circumstances being what they were, Maxx decided he could stand the stench a lot easier than he could handle jail…or worse. That decided, he continued onward. Twenty feet farther the alley widened, offering him a slight breeze and more room to maneuver. Better yet, the foul odor was less noticeable. He shivered… it was growing colder, and it looked like it would start snowing soon. He could handle the cold for a while, but snow bothered him.
A hearty appetite also came along with the Duaar bloodline, and his empty stomach reminded him that it had been hours since he’d last eaten. Now his nose joined in. The heady scents of yeast and baking bread seeped through several cracks in an older chimney that had lost its chink. A bakery and it was still open for business from the sounds coming through the wall.
There were three possible entrances to the bakery from the alley, however, all three were securely locked. One rusty lock looked promising. A nearby trash file provided a bent piece of wire, he easily picked the rudimentary lock. Not the bakery, but at least it was warmer than the streets. Pressed up against the side of the warm chimney he slumped to the dirt floor, asleep almost before his eyes closed.
********
Lost them, I knew I could. Walking slowly and blending into the milling crowd, he moved in the direction of the harbor. Maxx was always lecturing him, warning him to be careful, so he paused occasionally and listened for the sounds of footsteps following. Nothing… he was safe for now.
Despite his sketchy memories of Cabrell, Alex was certain that if he crossed the street at the corner, it would enable him to take a shortcut down a nearby alley. That would allow him to cut out about three blocks of travel while placing him near the infamous cabbage cart. Maxx would be nearby, safe in a bolt hole out of the weather. Whistling a familiar sea ditty, he began searching.
He managed about five steps before crashing into a young woman coming out of a bakery. Startled, the young woman grabbed onto his arm to try to slow her fall, dropping her basket at his feet. Somehow, she managed to look graceful throughout it all.
“Don’t you ever look out where you are going?” Her green eyes flashed angrily. Cursing under her breath she dropped to her knees, scurrying to pick up the scattered contents of her basket from the crowded street before someone stepped on them. She brushed off each item, checking it for damage, and then placed it back into the basket.
Alex cringed. Raised with three sisters he was familiar with angry women, this one was really mad. Muttering an apology, he attempted to help her to her feet.
“Put me down, you big Ox. Haven’t you done enough damage?”
How could such a tiny body produce such loud noise? Alex pondered, awestruck by the diminutive redhead before him.
She dusted off the front of her gown, continuing her angry tirade. “If you used your head for something besides a hat rack, you might have noticed me exiting the bakery.”
Alex pushed his long dark hair away from his face and smiled down at the auburn-haired beauty scolding him in the middle of the crowded market. Noticed her, Hells! How could anyone miss her, she’s lovely. Or she would be if she wasn’t frowning. Her eyes are gorgeous, green like Maxx’s, but darker now. I wonder what color they are when she wasn’t angry. Sea mist maybe?
He’d heard the expression “looks could kill” before but until today he’d never experienced it. Alex found himself thanking the Gods she didn’t have a knife handy. Not that he blamed her, it was his fault he’d run into her. He’d been so busy watching behind him, he was blind to anyone coming from the front.
“My apologies mistress.” For some reason, he was finding it hard to force the words out of his mouth. “No harm meant. I often do the first thing that pops into my head, and then realize afterward I’d made a mistake.” He flushed, realizing it wasn’t helping the situation.
“Well, that’s no reason for your behavior, merely a flimsy excuse.” She continued to glare at him, heedless of the people beginning to gather around them.
Alex couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was tall for a woman, but the top of her head barely reached his chin. A little thunderstorm, loud and blustery but not dangerous, in fact,---
“I know you!” he blurted out. He blushed a bright scarlet as he realized he’d uttered the words out loud. “I mean, we used to play games. Ummm… when we were children that is.” Embarrassed and once again at a loss for words, he hastened to think of something to say, anything, that would make him seem less a fool. There was plenty to use for inspiration. Waist length chestnut hair and a cute button nose, with barely a sprinkle of freckles. And a body that made you … Drasst, he was doing it again. Get your mind back on the matter at hand. He was considering just how he was going to arrange a way to continue to do this when Maxx’s cynical voic
e broke into the silence.
“Not wanting to intrude on this magical moment, but I think you might be interested in knowing that we have company coming.”
Alex tore his gaze from Nikiva’s face, staring up the street in the direction Maxx was pointing. Sure enough, he detected the plumed tops of two watch helmets above the crowd, and they were heading their way. If the watch had found them, Castillo’s men were nearby. He was certain watching him jailed would ruin any chance he had of reuniting with the mysterious young woman. Then someone in the crowd yelled a warning that a couple of officers were in a nearby bar, asking questions. Alex decided he’d have to leave the conversation for another time.
“Sorry about your basket. I’ll make it up to you somehow. But now I’ve to go. Come on Maxx, now might be a good time to get a room.” The two young men trotted off in the direction of the harbor. After a few steps, Alex suddenly stopped and looked back to see if the girl was still standing there. She was.
“Blue Moon,” he yelled. Nikiva watched him until he was no longer in sight, then she hurried off to meet Rhianwen.
********
“Sorry, I’m late…but Rhianwen, you won’t believe what happened.” Nikiva launched into a description of her day, starting with the misfired spell, the chase in the market and ending with the astonishing young man she’d literally run into in the lane outside the bakery.
“I don’t why…she gave a brief shudder…but he made me feel like I was on display like he was judging me.” Those eyes…
“Probably making sure you hadn’t picked his pockets.”
“Honestly Rhianwen! It wasn’t like that. I felt like he was appraising me, deciding if I was worth his time.” What if I wasn’t? What if he thought I was an ugly shrew?
“Makes me glad I’m Shii-Lakka,” Rhianwen remarked wryly. “No man will ever affect me that way.” She tied a small knot in her sewing, cut the excess thread and placed it into a basket to be ironed. “Toss me that blue tunic.” She giggled as Nikiva stuck out her tongue, before wadding the freshly laundered shirt into a ball and throwing it at her head. Now she’d have to iron it again.
“It’s strange, he seemed so familiar,” Nikiva continued. “But I’ve no idea where I could have met him. I’ve never been anywhere… except for my family’s farm and the school. I’m positive he’s not a student at the school. Goddess knows I’ve been laughed at by every one of them at least once.”
“Mind your stitches! You girls and your fantasies, a handsome face is all you care about. But if you must dream, then dream big… make him a wealthy Bezonite merchant? Or maybe he’s a dusky skinned Zarrni sheik, in town to purchase a new concubine. Perhaps he’ll ride up on a white stallion and carry you off to his harem across the sands.” Brianna, Rhianwens’ foster mother, enjoyed teasing Nikiva. The girl was like a daughter and with Rhianwen soon taking the Shii-Lakka oath, Nikiva was as close as she’d get to a possibility of a grandchild. She sighed as she snapped off the last few threads. “Your stories make me happy I’m long since married. It’s been many years since a man affected me that way. And well that is,” she continued. “Between my everyday chores and the store, Rhianwens father leaves me little time to spare for nonsense. Better forget him girl and concentrate on learning enough magic to keep old Stolinn happy.”
But Nikiva could not get the strangers eyes out of her mind. Why did she feel like she already knew him?
Chapter 5
“Smells clean,” Maxx stated as he pushed open the heavy wooden door of the Blue Moon Inn and Tavern. “It’ll do. You get us a room, okay?” He didn’t wait to hear Alex’s response, six strides took him across the common room floor. He un-slung his heavy pack with a heartfelt sigh, then he plopped himself down in one of the well-used chairs sitting directly across from the stone fireplace, stretching his legs out before him. Paradise!
Shaking his head at the brusque Duaar’s rude behavior, Alex picked up the battered brass bell prominently displayed atop a leather ledger. Before he could ring it, a petite white-haired woman of about sixty years swept into the room, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached. She tucked an unruly lock of snow-white hair behind one ear, the flipped it back impatiently when it refused to stay in place.
“Can I help you?” she inquired, casting a wary look at him and a sharper one at Maxx, who’d removed his boots and was holding his rain dampened stocking feet closer to the fire to dry them. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she shrugged, allowing a tender smile to cross her features. Alex noticed that her eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth as she struggled to keep a businesslike demeanor.
“A room with two beds.” He could tell by the way her eyes darkened that he wouldn’t like her answer.
“We’ve no rooms available.” She glanced again at Maxx who was starting to doze in front of the fire. “Have you boys come far?”
“Aye mistress, we came in on the Sea Wyvern, but we finished our pledged time of service and hope to find work here in Cabrell.”
“Jobs are scarce, what with everyone looking to hire out for the festival. I could use a cooks’ girl, but even my tired old eyes can tell you don’t fit that description.”
Alex sighed, not looking forward to a long and futile search for an empty room in the snow. He reached into his pocket and unconsciously counted the coins there. It was easily enough for a room and food for the pair, but only if they were frugal. Their plans had been simple, sleep in a real bed for a day or two and fill up on good home cooked food. The main portion of their saving was safely secreted in special belts the two had purchased in Hyperion last winter. Nothing about the pair would attract the attention of thieves. If they kept the money out of sight no one would ever suspect them of being anything more than two down and out sailors looking for a cheap place to lay their heads.
“Maybe you’d allow us space on the floor near the fireplace? The weather’s getting worse and we really need a place to stay, even if it’s only one night.” Alex smiled warmly, a look that had often melted lonely female hearts in the past. The old woman’s eyes twinkled as she recognized his good-natured ploy.
“Wait here, I need to talk to someone.” She winked, before disappearing through a set of swinging doors. Alex could make out the murmur of voices and the sounds of things being moved about, then the innkeeper returned, followed by a portly, dark-skinned woman, with black curly hair. Alex caught his breath. A Zarr! He found himself wondering how a member of that secretive desert tribe had come to live so far away from her native land.
The Zarrtina chef was covered in flour and carrying a pewter pitcher and a tray with four ceramic mugs on it. She stopped and looked him up and down, open suspicion evident in her expression. Alex squared his shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. Despite his consternation, he kept his composure as her ebony eyes bored into him, seemingly straight into his heart. He shifted uncomfortably, and her eyebrows rose, then she turned away with a chuckle. The two women exchanged a brief conversation in a language he didn’t recognize, and then the Zarrtina gestured toward the door to the Inn.
Alex groaned inwardly. Snow had begun falling as they approached the inn, by now it would be building up along the pathway, making it difficult to navigate. His shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes, whispering a brief prayer to whatever god might be willing to listen.
“When you are through talking to yourself, you might want to join us for a mug? I don’t know about you, but I’ve been on my feet all day. I could use a rest.”
Alex's eyes widened. Had he heard correctly? Were they not being asked to leave? He was certain that he’d made a mistake. The older woman was placing the night bar across the entrance. She smiled broadly at the astonished boy, dimmed the lantern hanging just inside the entrance, and followed the dusky woman to a great trestle table. Settling down in one of the overstuffed chairs, she motioned for Alex to join them, indicating with a wave that he should wake Maxx and bring him too.
“I could really use a break,” she sai
d, filling two of the mugs and passing them to Maxx and Alex, then pouring one for the Zarr woman before pouring one for herself. She took a long swallow, taking time to savor the pungent flavor before placing the mug on the table again. Content, she sat back in the chair. Removing a small leather bag of smoke-weed from a pocket, she offered it to the others before filling her own pipe.
Alex was never one to miss any chance to enjoy a smoke. Happily, he filled his pipe, having been out of smoke- weed for some time and no opportunity to restock.
“I have a proposal. It’s a busy time for us right now, and we’re short-handed.” The Innkeeper took another pull on her pipe, cast a weary look towards her friend, and then spoke again.
“We could use your help for the next few days, just till the festival is over and things get back to normal. It’s a bit too much for the two of us to handle.” Her eyes turned soft and misty and for a moment a touch of fear appeared on her wizened features. She paused to take a drag, then exhaled and continued. “No pay, just room, and meals. But it’ll give you a place out of the weather until you can make other arrangements. Mind you, the rooms not much to look at, it’s tiny. Truth is, it’s more like a big closet. The cooks’ helper slept there till she ran off with some boy from Alliance three weeks ago.” She sighed, remembering her own days of young love, and then took another sip from her mug before continuing. “If you boys could help with the heavy lifting, maybe feed the animals and such, it’d be a great help to us.”
Maxx sniffed and yawned sleepily, grateful to be sitting in a warm room. All he cared about was filling his stomach and getting some rest. A few chores in exchange for a place to sleep sounded great to him. He rested head on the table, leaving the decision up to Alex.