A Sellsword's Valor

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A Sellsword's Valor Page 23

by Jacob Peppers


  Caleb’s eyes went wider still. “You followed them? Uh uh, not me, Mr. Bert. You sure are brave.”

  Bert grunted, but he smiled as he did. “Not brave, lad, just stupid. Either way, I followed them, keeping my distance as they made their way through the back alleys of the city. I watched from as far away as I could be and still see them, when a man—drunk, I thought, judging by his walk—stumbled down the same alley they were walking down. The man froze, and the smaller of the two men motioned to the bigger one who started toward the stranger. Still, he was on the other side of the alley, and I thought that he would make it away.” He paused taking a slow, deep breath. “But he’d made it no more than three steps before something flew out of the night, too fast to follow, and the next thing I knew his head was flying from his body and there was blood…gods, there was so much blood. In the moonlight,” he said, finally turning to Aaron, “it looked almost black. I never knew that blood could look so black.”

  Aaron nodded, his face set. “Go on, Bert. Finish the rest of it. I think you need to tell it as much as we need to hear it.”

  The thin man nodded. “Whoever or whatever had done that to the man, they were gone in a blink, and I never even got a look at them. The two men just kept walking, striding by the corpse without even giving it so much as a glance. Anyway, long story short,” he said, “I followed them through the city until they came to…” He shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

  “Aaron!” They all turned at the sound of his name. It was the sergeant’s voice, and it was coming from downstairs.

  “Shit,” Aaron cursed, turning back to the thin man. “Where, Bert? Where did they go?”

  “T-the castle,” the thin man said, “they went into the castle.”

  The man’s words hit Aaron like a lightning strike, but he also felt as if some half-hidden suspicion had been confirmed, as if, deep down, he’d been thinking that it had been the only possible answer, but that he hadn’t wanted to believe it. He turned to Leomin, and met the Parnen’s haunted, shocked gaze, no doubt a mirror to his own. An understanding passed between them, and Aaron turned back to the thin man. “Thanks for telling us all of this, Bert. I don’t want to tell you your business, but I’m going to repay the favor with some advice. Get out of Baresh. Now. Don’t wait until morning, don’t try to get all of your affairs in order before you leave. Pack a bag tonight, take what coin you can get, and then get the fuck out of this city.”

  “B-but leaving Baresh?” Bert said, as if the thought was impossible, “I…I’ve always lived here. I was born here, raised in an orphanage not a mile from where we sit. How can I leave?” He met Aaron’s eyes, his gaze desperate. “My life’s here.”

  “From one orphan rat to another, Bert,” Aaron said, “trust me and get out while you can. Your life might be here, but your death will be, too. The people you’re dealing with don’t like to leave witnesses, and it’s only a matter of time before somebody talks a little too much, and the next knock on your door might not be a knock at all. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” the thin man said, nodding slowly, “I understand.”

  “Do it, Bert,” Aaron said. “Tonight. Whatever is going on in this city—it’s going to get worse before it gets better. If it gets better.”

  The thin man sighed. “Very well,” he said, “I will leave. T-thank you, Mister—I just realized I don’t even know your full name.”

  “It’s better that you don’t,” Aaron said, offering the thin man his hand. “Safe travels, Bert.”

  “And to you,” the thin man said, taking it and giving it a shake that was surprisingly firm.

  “Alright,” Aaron said, turning back to Leomin, “we’ve got to go. Now.”

  They started for the door, but the youth paused, going back and giving the thin man a hug. After a stunned moment, Bert returned it, a small smile on his face. “Thank you, Mr. Bert,” Caleb said, “you’re the bravest man I know.”

  The man laughed at that, but he was smiling widely as Caleb walked up to stand beside the two staring men. “Well?” he asked. “Aren’t we in a hurry?”

  Aaron shook his head in wonder then turned and led them out the door. He had his blade drawn as they came down the stairs, ready for anything that might be waiting for them. So he was surprised when he found that the scene in the common room of the brothel was much like the one they had left. The woman stood behind the bar, her arms folded, a pouty expression on her face. Wendell still sat in the chair facing the dancer who was now naked from the waist up and performing in front of one of the other men who shouted in appreciation as he threw more coins onto the stage.

  Aaron’s gaze swept the common room as he stepped off the stairs. “Men and their swords,” the bartender sneered, “you just can’t resist waving that thing around, can you?”

  Aaron frowned, not responding as he started toward the scarred sergeant. He noted, as he did, that a woman in a white robe was bent over the still prone figure of Breaker, ministering to him with a cloth and a vial of some liquid. Aaron passed her and knelt beside Wendell’s chair. The sergeant didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well?” Aaron asked.

  “What’s that?” Wendell said, turning away from the show with obvious reluctance.

  “You called my name,” Aaron said, “what’s happened? Have the guards come?”

  The sergeant looked surprised, looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “Not that I’m aware of, sir.” He started to turn back to the dancer, and Aaron clapped a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back around.

  “Then why did you call my name?” Aaron tried again.

  “Oh, that,” the sergeant said, nodding. “I just was wantin’ to see if you might have a few coins I could borrow, is all. It’s a fine view here, but she’s all the way on the other side of the stage.” He frowned at the man who the woman was still dancing in front of. “That fucker’s been hoggin’ her for the last ten minutes. Bastard must have brought every coin he had.” Wendell grunted. “Probably not gonna have enough to buy himself a decent meal later. Lucky bastard.”

  Aaron let out a growl and pulled the sergeant out of his chair. “We’re leaving.”

  “Done already?” Wendell asked. “You sure there ain’t nothin’ else you’d like to ask that fella, sir? I mean…” He paused to glance back at the woman. “Cases like this, I reckon it’s good to be thorough. My father always told me that a job done right is faster in the end on account of you didn’t have to go back and fix none of the mistakes you made while you were tryin’ to hurry.”

  “I’m sure,” Aaron said dryly. “Now, are you going to come on, or am I going to have to drag you out of here?”

  The sergeant held up his hands. “Easy, sir. I was just wantin’ to make sure that we were all takin’ the steps we needed to. Just concerned about the task at hand, is all.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “I’m sure that’s what you were concerned about. Now let’s go. We’ve pushed our luck here enough already.”

  Aaron scanned the city streets as they walked, his mind racing. The castle. Why would they bring them to the castle unless…

  I don’t like this, Aaron, Co said, not at all. Only the strongest and fastest are being taken? That sounds much like Kevlane’s work to me. And now Belgarin plans to hold a tournament where thousands of warriors, men and women who have trained their entire lives to be strong and fast, will show up to compete, creating the perfect opportunity for Kevlane?

  You’re right, firefly, Aaron thought back, it’s not good. I think it’s safe to say that Kevlane is here, in Baresh.

  And more than that, Co responded, her own voice troubled, it would appear that there are only two realistic options. Either Belgarin and Boyce Kevlane are in league together, or Kevlane has found some means of manipulating or controlling Belgarin.

  You’re leaving out a third option, firefly, Aaron thought.

  Oh?

  Maybe Belgarin isn’t Belgarin at
all. You know as well as I do that Kevlane can change his face whenever he wants. Besides, it would explain Belgarin’s erratic behavior lately, such as retreating with his army, only to have a tournament.

  You mean that you believe Kevlane has taken over the throne of Baresh? That he is creating an army of his sick mutations?

  I’m not sure, firefly, Aaron thought back, but it fits the facts. Still, we need to be sure.

  And how can we do that? It’s not as if we can walk up to the castle and say, “Oh, hey, how are you? By the way, I was wondering: do you feel like your king could possibly be a homicidal maniac that spends his spare time turning men and women into monsters?

  I’ve always been a fan of the direct approach, Aaron thought, smiling without humor as he led the others back in the direction of Nathan’s tavern. He glanced at Leomin. That said, I think this time there might be another way.

  Aaron, Co said, I like Leomin as much as anyone but surely you—

  She said something more, but Aaron wasn’t listening, was too busy turning the idea over in his mind, looking for the weak points. Dangerous, sure, but then he couldn’t remember the last decision he’d made that didn’t have a very real possibility of winding up getting him killed.

  Perhaps there’ s a lesson there, the Virtue said, her displeasure clear in her tone.

  Maybe, Aaron thought back, but I’ll have time enough to learn it if we survive.

  He studied his three companions and saw the anxiety and worry he felt mirrored in their own expressions. The men looked like prisoners being marched to the gallows, dead already and knowing it. A thought struck him, and he found himself grinning as he looked at the youth, “Mr. Bert, huh?”

  The kid glanced over, saw his smile, and seemed to tuck his neck further into his shoulders, looking away from Aaron’s eyes. “I didn’t know his last name. Anyway,” he said, finally summoning the courage to meet Aaron’s gaze, “it worked, didn’t it?”

  “Relax, kid,” Aaron said, still grinning. “I’m not questioning your methods—the man had information we needed, and you got it out of him. It was a job well done.”

  The youth looked away again, but Aaron noted the pleased smile on his face as he did. “About that other bit though …” Aaron went on, “the part about how you would have pissed yourself if you’d seen what the man had…”

  “I was only saying what he needed to hear,” Caleb said, avoiding the amused glances of the three men. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “You sure? I only ask because I know kids sometimes have problems holding their water, and we’ve still got half an hour or more before we make it back to Nathan’s. I’d hate for you to have an accident.”

  Wendell barked a laugh at that, and Leomin grinned. The kid frowned, but Aaron thought he could see amusement mixed with relief in his eyes. “I’m fine,” he grumbled.

  “If you’re sure.” They walked on in silence then, but one that felt less fraught than the one that had preceded it. It had not made their problems go away, of course, and it was all too likely that the doom he’d seen before in each of their expressions would come upon them before long; but, the way Aaron figured it, if a man was going to die, he might as well do it smiling.

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  During their journey to Galia, Adina’s thoughts had been focused on getting to the city as quickly as possible and worrying about Aaron and the others. She had felt an urgency building in her with each passing night and, with it, the irrational belief that if she were able to win back her kingdom, then Aaron and the others would be okay, would have to be okay. Now, though, standing in line to enter the city—what had once been her city—the urgency had fled and in its face was a deep, abiding fear.

  As they waited their turn at the gate, a thousand different scenarios—all bad—played through Adina’s mind. What if the guards recognized her and swept her and the others off the street and into the dungeons before anyone could do anything about it? She was covered in road dust, wearing a simple tunic and trousers, and Beth had crushed up some plant Adina hadn’t recognized and stained Adina’s hair so that it was a red close to May’s own, but her heart hammered in her chest anyway. She was their queen, after all. How could the guards at the gate not recognize her? She felt like a fool, like a child that had been so focused on getting what she wanted that she hadn’t paid attention to the dangers not just to herself, but to her friends as well.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize that her feet had carried her to the gate until one of the guards spoke.

  “Ma’am?”

  Adina looked up, her heart pounding even harder in her chest. “S-sir?” We could run, she thought, preparing herself for it, they couldn’t catch us, not all of us. We have the horses. They’re tired from the journey, but surely if we put enough distance—

  “I said what business brings you to Galia?”

  Adina felt hope flood through her. No shouts of alarm then, no yell for more guards. “I—that is—”

  “Pleasure brings us, soldier,” May said from beside her, smiling and giving him a wink, “it is what drives the world, after all. That and, admittedly, we are looking for jobs. Still, I’ve heard that the men of Galia are the finest in the entirety of the world. So far, at least,” she said, smiling seductively, “I cannot say that I disagree.”

  The man blushed at that, but he cleared his throat. “And you, ma’am?” he said to Adina.

  Adina tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t seem to come, and the club owner smiled, chuckling softly. “You must forgive my sister, sir. She is very shy, I’m afraid, particularly when in the presence of such a handsome man. Still,” she said, winking once more, “she is not so shy in bed, or so I hear.”

  Adina felt her face heat, and in her anger at the club owner speaking of her in such a way, some bit of her fear vanished, and she was able to find her voice once more. “You must forgive my sister, sir,” she said to the guard, “she has a tendency to flaunt what she has and, if she’s not doing that, then she’s flaunting what someone else has. We are simple women come to see if we can find work, that’s all.”

  The guard grunted, studying Adina up and down in a way that made her face heat further. “Very well,” he said, “welcome to Galia, ladies.” He gave a slight bow, directed at Adina, then stepped to the side, holding his arm out in invitation. “I hope that you find the work you’re looking for.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” Adina said, bowing her own head in return as she started into the city, the club owner beside her.

  “And just what was that?” she whispered harshly once they were away from the guard.

  “That, sister,” May said, “was me getting us inside of the ci—”

  “Ma’am, stop please!”

  Adina froze, her breath catching in her throat as the soldier jogged toward them. She watched in surprise as he bowed to her again. “Forgive me, ma’am,” he said, “I’m usually not so forward, I swear, but I find myself unable to keep from asking…would you like to perhaps get a drink later? There’s a tavern on God’s Row, the Toppling Tankard, it’s called. You’d make my week, if you were able to come.”

  Adina gave the man a smile. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid—”

  “She’d be happy to come,” May interrupted, and Adina gave the club owner a sharp look before turning back to the guard.

  “I’m sorry,” Adina tried again, “but I’ve already got someo—”

  “What time?” May said, not giving Adina a chance to finish.

  The guard looked between the two of them uncertainly. “Um…my shift’s over in two hours so…three hours from now?”

  “And the Toppling Tankard, you called it?”

  “That’s right,” he said to May, his voice unsure. He turned back to Adina, an apologetic expression on his face. “It really is quite a nice tavern, and all I ask is a drink, I swear. It would be my pleasure, and I expect no more than that.”

  Adina opened h
er mouth to respond, but found that her anger at the club owner was such that she couldn’t seem to find the words.

  “Nor should you,” May said in a slightly scolding tone. “My sister is no harlot or street walker to be purchased for the price of a glass of wine.”

  The man’s young face grew red. “I…that is, I didn’t mean—”

  “Never mind what you meant,” May said, folding her arms, “you’ve got your wish, and my sister will have her drink. Perhaps it’s best that you don’t linger any longer.”

  The guard cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, I—” He hesitated, as if unsure of what to say. “That is, I’ll see you tonight,” he said, bowing low to Adina once more, and Adina watched dumbly as he walked back to the gate.

  “May,” she said, her voice cold, “would you care to explain to me what it is you think you’re doing?”

  “Tell me, Princess,” May said, raising an eyebrow, “how many rebellions have you waged in your time? For make no mistake, it is a rebellion you intend to wage here, and I myself have some bit of experience in such matters.”

  “It’s not a rebellion,” Adina hissed, angrier than she had been in a long time, “it’s my kingdom.”

  “Ah, I see,” May said, “and are you currently in power here?”

  “Well, no,” Adina said, flabbergasted, “you know that. I told you—”

  “And do you intend to wrest power from those who currently have it?”

  Adina sighed, frustrated. “Yes, but that’s only because—”

  “And to do so would you be prepared to do things that they would no doubt deem illegal, going so far as to break the laws that they have set?”

  “Yes,” Adina hissed through gritted teeth.

  The club owner smiled, shrugging. “Sounds a lot like a rebellion to me.”

  “Rebellion or not,” Adina said, grabbing the woman by the arm and leading her to the side of the street, “you had no right to tell that guard I would see him tonight. I didn’t come here to find a man—I already have one, if you hadn’t noticed. I came here to win back my kingdom, and I thought you had come here to help me.”

 

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