by V C Sanford
“Maxx, mind your manners,” Alex chided, then blushed as both women chuckled again. He knew it was futile to expect his partners’ behavior to miraculously improve. “I’m Alexander Baldric, Alex to my friends, that’s Aryhmaxx Stoneshield. He doesn’t make many friends, those few he has, call him Maxx. We’d appreciate the opportunity to trade.”
“Then wake your sleepy friend and follow me,” the landlady said warmly, gathering up the now empty mugs and passing the tray to the cook, who had sat throughout the entire conversation without saying a word.
“You can call me Addie, cooks name is Tula. She can’t speak but a few words of our language, so unless you speak Zarrni, don’t expect her to answer if you call out to her.” She led them up a dimly lit flight of stairs, then down a carpeted hall past several doors, to the back side of the Inn. There she opened another door, entering a dimly lit hallway leading to a second and much narrower set of stairs. Beckoning them to follow she started up, climbing briskly, as nimble as a much younger woman. Turning left at the landing, she opened the third door, gesturing for the boys to enter before her.
The garret space room was little more than a tall man's height in length and width, with sloping ceilings and exposed rafters. Alex tried not to scowl when he saw the battered old bedstead. Along the wall sat a small wooden chest and a chair that had seen its better days about the time Alex was born. On the other side of the room was a small cedar bureau. One drawer was broken but the other was still serviceable. Sitting on top was a white china bowl for washing along with a chipped ewer of water. The chest also provided a battered copper lamp with a chipped glass dome, which would give them some light after dark.
Addie crossed over to the small garret window and opened it wide, allowing a slight breeze into the musty room. “I know it’s not much but times being what they are, it’s better than the streets. At least it’s warm, being right above the kitchen, with the chimney and all. You boys come down for supper in about an hour, we’ll talk more then.” She set the lamp on the chest, then turned and went back downstairs.
Alex continued smiling until the door behind her, then the smile was replaced by an expression caught somewhere between disappointment and abject disgust. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, mumbling a half-hearted prayer to any God willing to listen. It didn’t help. It was still a dump. Clean … but still a dump. The rickety bedstead was topped with a thinly stuffed mattress of straw. Over the mattress were threadbare linen sheets covered by a tattered blanket that looked as if someone had pieced it together from scraps of worn-out clothing. There was a pillow so thin it might as well not be there at all. However, the room was warm, the heat radiating off the exposed bricks of the chimney flue making it seem almost comfortable. Overall it was a sad but secure place to sleep. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, so Alex checked underneath the bed, finding only a chipped and well-used chamber pot hiding amongst the dust and cobwebs.
“Move out of my way before I drop this.” Alex moved aside to allow Maxx a chance to deposit his heavy load on the ancient bed. The life went out of Maxx’s face when he realized there was only one. They’d have to share or take turns, the other sleeping on the floor.
“You take it tonight, I’ll take tomorrow.” He stepped over to the small window and looked out at the city, thinking about all that had happened in such a short time. But mostly he was thinking about her, glowing auburn locks that hung down to her waist, a face that was speckled with freckles and eyes, unlike any color he’d ever seen, green like the foam of the sea and flaked with gold.
Maxx watched his friend through slitted eyes. After the Alliance incident, Alex had settled into a long stretch of one-night stands. Maxx had sworn he’d not harp on it, at least until the memories faded, or his tall friend decided he was over it. But today, he’d recognized the dazed expression. Alex was infatuated, and that always meant trouble. At least he could deal with it another day.
He poured some water into the chipped basin, washing his face and arms before changing into fresh clothes. He gave his filthy trousers, shirt, and still damp socks a quick hand laundering, and then hung them over the back of the old chair to dry. Only then did he sink down on the bed, pushing himself up toward the head and stretching his aching back in the process.
“You think I’m crazy, spending all my time thinking about a girl I just met?”
“Can’t put anything past you, can I. You realize that you’ll never see her again. That girl probably forgot you by the time you turned the corner. Are you really ready for another relationship after what happened?”
Alex hesitated. He’d been a jerk since Kira’s death. It still hurt, but that pain hadn’t dimmed his lust for the next beautiful face---as long as they left his bed the next morning. But something about this girl was different. “Yes. But you know me, I have a one-track mind. And right now, my mind is set on getting to know her as soon as possible.”
“And what makes you think she might be interested in you? You don’t even know her name. She was wearing robes. She’s young, so she’s probably a student at Rosemont. Beautifully gifted mages, even student mages, are not interested in bedding unemployed sailors turned adventurers---he laughed soundly---or in this case, cook’s helpers and stable hands.”
“But do you think I have a chance?”
“You have a chance all right, a chance on getting us thrown in the town lockup. They are already after us, and we don’t have a clue why. We need to lay low for a while, give everyone a chance to forget what we look like. That girl is only going to bring more trouble.”
“Probably, they all do. I don’t think the watch even noticed her. I’m sure I know her. Its Nikiva, I know it.”
“Well, she didn’t recognize you.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s been five years since I last saw Nikiva. Her family would have married her off long ago. I bet she’s fat as a sow from birthing two or three scrawny brats. Probably lost half her teeth, and that red hair has gone dull with stringy grey streaks.” But even as he spoke the words his mind refused to let it go, all he could see were those eyes, …and those lips, …and those breasts, … and…
“Are you ready? That roast certainly smells good.”
“Yeah.” He closed the window and let the curtain drop. The pristine snow was deceptive, like the city he’d returned to, it was easy to look at the surface and forget what hid beneath the beauty. He’d found his attention drawn to a trio of men talking among themselves just outside the inn's courtyard. The two men were speaking rapidly, but they were too far away for Alex to make out what they were saying. He could tell from the agitated gestures one man was making, that their discussion was important. It was a shame he couldn’t get close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. He’d an awful premonition it somehow concerned them.
********
“You’re sure it’s the man I seek? Make no mistake, it won’t go well for you if I find you’ve wasted my time.” Lord Torrin Baldric adjusted his cravat, admiring his reflection in the ornate mirror that decorated the wall directly behind his desk, before turning his attention once more to the trembling man before him. His cruel stare reflected his quickly diminishing patience, a not so subtle warning that the man would deeply regret every word if the information failed to pan out.
“Aye, it’s him all right! That scar across his face, that’s new. It’s downright ugly it is… cuts his temple, down through his eyebrow all the way across his right cheek. Patch makes it hard to see his eyes. But everything else was spot on. Just over six feet, heavily muscled but slim, aye and some might say handsome, like yer self. That long black hair pulled back in a horse’s tail, it’s new, like the golden ring decorating his left ear. Your lordship, this boy’s a man now, nothing like the young pup I kicked around.” Tibby shifted his weight, uncomfortable standing on the fine silk oriental rugs. He self-consciously attempted to scrape the mud from the bottom of his boots then stopped abruptly when the majordomo grunted a warning.
&
nbsp; “No one is to know what you’ve told me.” He tossed the grateful miscreant a small leather bag of coins. “Take this for your trouble. Any further information about this man and his actions will earn more of the same.” He motioned for a page to come forward. “Take this man to the kitchen and see that he’s well fed, and then have a cart return him to his home.”
Bowing respectfully, the young page ushered the groveling man out of the study and toward the back of the house, happy for any excuse to escape the room and his tempestuous lord’s attention. He was still sporting a black eye, courtesy of the last unpleasant message he’d delivered.
Lord Baldric remained sitting behind his desk, sipping a glass of brandy as the servant hurried to do his bidding. Once the door closed, his eyes flashed triumphantly. Casually he licked his lips, reviewing the information he’d newly received. The fact that his nephew was back in town interested him greatly. His late brother was worthless, his only marketable quality had been the families’ debonair good looks, which they’d both utilized to enhance their personal fortunes. Uncharacteristically, the fool had fallen in love. She was a beauty, an entitled woman of good bloodlines and an even better face and figure, but no dowry. As her looks faded, so did his devotion, he’d returned to his earlier love…Duaar ale. Her death had been unexpected, however, it had provided his brother with an unforeseen treasure… or at least the rumor of one.
Lord Baldric frowned, remembering the months of manipulations, searching out and feeding his brothers perverse and often sadistic addictions, and then---when he’d finally convinced the drunken sot to trust him with the location of the map---the pathetic fool revealed his late wife had never disclosed the secret to him, deciding instead to entrust her youngest son Alex with the information.
Alex… that whelp had disappeared soon after her death. He set my hunt back months…if not years. I’d given up all hope of ever finding the crux. Now, he shows up, acting as if he’d never been away.
Fate was finally smiling his way. A few days with his nephew and he was certain the boy would tell him everything he needed to know. And then maybe, just maybe, Izabal would give him some peace about that damned medallion. He glared at the gilt frame mirror that covered most of the wall, trying not to show his petulance. Izabal had eyes everywhere. He was certain that the witch had spies within his own household. There was no loyalty among the servants, a handful of silver Qip’s would buy details of every surreptitious meeting that took place within his halls, possibly some he wasn’t even aware of. He forced himself to look away from the ornate looking glass, staring instead out the window at the snow drifting down. He’d do well to remember that a mirror could be used to observe as well as reflect. Best that he does not show his hand so early. He turned away from the window, pacing up and down the room, going over his options in his head. The boy’s the answer. But convincing Alex to tell me where the medallion is hidden won’t be as simple as it once was. My nephew’s older, and not as naïve. Young or not, he and his companion managed to evade both the watch and Castillo’s goons, an impressive feat considering how much gold I’ve offered. For now, I’ll wait and watch, give young Alex a chance to relax his guard. But the Duaar … he reminds me of another man, one I’d like to forget. A very dangerous man… No, he can be easily taken out of the picture before he turned into a problem. Time to call in a favor.
Returning to his chair, he opened his desk drawer, removing paper and his pen and inkwell. His hands shaking and tremulous, he slowly inscribed a short missive, lightly dusting it with sand to set the ink, then signed it by dripping hot wax and using his ring as a seal. He needed to be careful, any word of what he was requesting could create repercussions large enough to affect his status in the community. Luckily, there were many who owed him favors who didn’t owe their living---or their allegiance--- to the Dark Society. It could be arranged without implicating him in any manner. He rang the bell on his desk. Almost immediately a second prepubescent page appeared in the doorway.
“Take this immediately to the Sea Wyvern’s purser. Place it directly in his hands. It’s important that it reaches only his eyes. Trust it to no other.” Lord Baldric motioned for the trembling boy to come closer, so the boy couldn’t fail to hear his parting words. “Insist if you have to---there must be no mistake. Wait until the purser has read it, and then return with both the original and his answer.” He stared straight into the eyes of the now terrified youngster.
“Don’t make me regret that I entrusted you with this. Now go!”
Chapter 6
Two days after her run-in with the handsome rogue outside the bakery, Nikiva was still thinking about him. Despite Rhianwens arguments, she was convinced it was her destiny to see him once again. “You’ve got to consider the risks from all sides. I agreed to help you find this mystery man… and I did. But now I’m asking you again. Please forget him.”
Nikiva sighed, she couldn’t tell if her friends’ shadowed eyes were hiding amusement… or concern. No matter how much she argued, Rhianwen was certain she was walking straight into more trouble than she could handle. According to Rhii, the young man could be everything from a sadistic pervert bent on destroying her innocence, a murderer intent on strangulation, or a destitute mercenary intent on selling her into a life of slavery. She had problems imagining herself as a coin girl, obviously, Rhianwen didn’t.
“Nikiva, be reasonable. You can’t just walk into the Inn and ask for him. Use some common sense for once. You don’t know anything about him. He might be a thief---or worse.” Rhianwen has stated the obvious for so long her already quiet voice was now barely a whisper. “I agreed to help you find this mystery man… but now I’m asking you again. Please forget him.”
“Why should I?” she snapped before turning and stomping back across the room. “Women go into the inn every day. It’s perfectly normal.”
“Yes, women with no morals who make their living by selling their bodies, coin girls in chains, not young girls barely sixteen who are still in school. What if it is Alex? What makes you think he’d remember you? You were eight the last time you saw him.”
“He told me the name of the inn for a reason. He must want me to drop by.” Not that they needed to do it this way. They could send a messenger with a note. That would be the proper way to do it. Nikiva grinned. No one had ever accused her of being proper.
Exasperated, Rhianwen threw up her hands in defeat. “Give me a minute to get my things. If you’re going to make a fool of yourself, I might as well be there to watch.” Rhianwen hastened into the house behind the small sewing shop then reappeared in moments carrying a leather bag. “I’m ready, let’s go”.
********
Maxx allowed a soft, self-satisfied grunt to escape as he tossed the last bale of hay into Alex’s waiting arms. The hours had crawled by, but the tedious day was finally nearing its end. He was tired of horses and the overwhelming smell of urine-soaked horse droppings. He considered then decided against hiding the rake and shovel that he’d dropped after his earlier efforts at manure removal. She’d never believe they were stolen.
Alex broke the hay into sections, stuffing them into the wooden slatted managers above each horse’s stall. “Let’s get out of here before Addie thinks of something else that “just has to be done.”
The weather had been unpredictable, and today's was filled with the signs of probable snow… again. He peered upwards, eyeing a vee of low flying geese rushing southward. Their scattered cries echoed against the mountains surrounding the sleepy town as they struggled to out fly the rapidly approaching storm.
“Stop dawdling, let’s get inside. It’s going to start snowing again. It’ll probably freeze over tonight.” Maxx trudged toward the door of the thatch-roofed inn, confident that his equally worn-out friend would follow.
“Right behind you,” Alex called. He stopped to check the latch on the barn door. The way his luck had been running the wind would blow the door open, probably about the time he got comfortable for the nig
ht. Worse yet, he’d be right in the middle of a great dream, possibly one staring that green-eyed vixen. He satisfied himself that nothing short of a hurricane would affect the latch, then ran across the open courtyard, eager for the warmth that awaited him inside. Maxx was already relaxing beside the fire, enjoying a mug of hot mulled ale and Tula’s spicy onion potatoes.
The Inn was full, many travelers driven inside to escape the inclement weather. A heady buzz of conversation spoken in several languages made it seem even more festive than normal.
“May Lady Fate’s wheel ever lands on your number,” Maxx exclaimed, raising his mug in the traditional toast of adventurers.
“Seems like it already has,” Alex responded, raising his hand in greeting.
Maxx was surprised to see the young girl from the market coming through the Inns door, accompanied by a second figure draped in desert style clothing. The dark-colored robes covered the head and body completely except for a space for the eyes, offering no hint of sex or appearance. Even her hands were bandaged in heavy strips of some darkly tanned skin. There was something about the way she stood that convinced him it was another girl. Before he had a chance to comment on their presence Alex was already halfway to their side, ushering them across the common room to their table.
Addie was beaming as she swept the dirty plates away from the table, replacing the boy’s empty mugs with fresh spiced ale. It surprised her that the two young men had somehow found the time to make friends, especially one of the Shii-Lakka since they had only arrived in town two days before. “Would you young ladies like spiced ale or would you prefer a nice cup of hot tea?”
“Tea please, for us both if you don’t mind. I’m Nikiva, and this is my friend Rhianwen I hope you don’t mind that we dropped by. It’s just---it’s just so rare that I meet anyone like you---ummm--two. I mean---,” she hesitated, her already pink cheeks somehow flushing an even brighter shade of scarlet, then continued, “I felt comfortable --- like I’ve known you for a long time.” She stopped talking as Addie returned with the tea.